













WJU, ^ 




Witt-- si4|/«A^ 


1 =’ 

\'^n ^ 



» 






f 



% 


t 

c 



ui 




4 




I 




HE SHUT OFF THE ENGINE AND DOVE 





Introduction 


** Don Hale with the Flying Squadron is 
the third of the '' Don Hale Stories.'' It fol- 
lows “ Don Hale in the War Zone," and 
Don Hale Over There," and tells what hap- 
pens to Don after he relinquishes his 
dangerous post as an ambulance driver for 
the Red Cross on the western front. 

But Don's new duties are of a far more 
dangerous nature ; and during his training in 
the aviation school and after ho finally be- 
comes a full-fledged member of that most 
famous of all flying squadrons, the Lafayette 
Escadrille, he has interesting experiences and 
enough exciting adventures to last even the 
most spirited youngster an entire lifetime. 

It may be safely said, however, that the ac- 
count is not overdrawn ; indeed, in the air 
service, in which most valiant deeds have 
been performed, it would be hard to exagger- 
ate the perils which besot the ** cavalry of the 
clouds " on very side. 

3 


4 


Introduction 


To add to the interest of Don’s experiences 
with the escadrille there is a certain mystery 
connected with several characters which is 
not solved until the end of the story. 

In the next book of the series, Don Hale 
with the Yanks,” is told the further adven- 
tures of the young combat pilot after he has 
been transferred to the American air service. 
He sees much of that memorable conflict — 
one of the turning points of the great war — 
when, at Ch§,teau Thierry, the German drive 
for Paris was halted by the victorious Amer- 
icans. 


W. Crispin Sheppard. 


Contents 


I. 

The Greenhorn 

. 


• 


9 

IL 

New Comrades . 





24 

III. 

Spies . 





39 

IV. 

Penguins ” 





51 

V. 

Training . 





64 

VI. 

Dublin Dan 





79 

VII. 

The Vrille 





95 

VIII. 

The Hero 





no 

IX. 

The Ace . 





119 

X. 

Corporal Dan . 





136 

XI. 

The Lafayette 





149 

XII. 

Above the Clouds 





159 

XIII. 

The Farmer 





174 

XIV. 

The Bombardment 





185 

XV. 

A Battle in the Clouds 




194 

XVI. 

The Empty House 





214 

XVII. 

A Mystery 





222 

XVIII. 

The Red Squadron 





233 

XIX. 

The Perilous Game 





250 

XX. 

Hamlin 





270 

XXL 

The Arrest 





280 

XXII. 

The Trial 





293 


6 















Illustrations 


He Shut Off the Engine and Dove . Frontispiece^'' 

“ Spies Are Everywhere . . . .44 

“There Are Other Games Just as Danger- 
ous” 120- " 

“The German Lines Must Not Be Crossed ” 157*^ 

His Passage was Unexpectedly Blocked . 224 


Don Hale with the Flying Squadron 





Don Hale With the Flying 
Squadron 

CHAPTER I 

THE GKEENHORN 

A RICKETY-LOOKING cab, Containing two 
passengers and much luggage, and driven by 
a gray-haired coclier^ drew slowly up to a high 
iron gate and came to a halt. And the wheels 
had scarcely stopped before two young chaps, 
with exclamations of deep satisfaction and re- 
lief, literally tumbled out of the ancient ve- 
hicle and stared about them. 

Well, Don, here we are at last I '' cried the 
elder. 

Yes, George. And this is certainly one 
of the greatest moments of my life. To- 
morrow I start my training to become a 
pilot, exclaimed the other, such a degree of 
enthusiasm expressed in his tone as to make 
9 


lo 


Don Hale 


the wrinkled cab driver turn, survey him with 
a curious grin, and comment in the French 
tongue ; 

I guess that's the way most of them act 
until something happens." 

But the boys scarcely heard him. 

Surmounting the iron gate, inside of which 
an armed sentry was slowly pacing, this in- 
scription in large, bold letters, stood out 
against the sky : 

** Ecole d' Aviation Militaire de Beaumont." 

I certainly hope the Boches won’t get 
you, young monsieur," continued the driver. 

But, if you don’t mind, I’d be glad if you’d 
will your life insurance to me." 

I’ll think about it," laughed the boy. 
He deposited several pieces of silver in the 
palm of the hand held toward him, then be- 
gan the task of getting his luggage olf the 
vehicle. By the time this was done the 
sentry had opened the great iron gate. 

With a hasty good-bye, the boys turned 
toward the soldier and producing several 
important-looking papers handed them to 
him. 


11 


With the Flying Squadron 

And while the proceeding was under way 
this series of comments passed between five 
young men, attired in the horizon blue uni> 
form of the French poilu, who were strolling 
inside the great enclosure not far away : 

Well, well I What have we here ? 

No doubt a couple more pilots/^ 

But, if I'm not mistaken, one of them is 
actually wearing the stars and wings insignia 
of the air service on his uniform. He's a 
corporal." 

“ So he is I Such a young chap, too I — looks, 
for all the world, like a high-school boy on his 
way home from th,e place of demerit marks 
and ciphers." 

Let's give 'em the grand quiz." 

It took the sentry only an instant to scan 
the papers and nod his head in approval, and 
another instant for the newcomers to gather 
up their possessions and head for the group 
of fiva 

“ Step up and give your names, boys." 

The speaker was a tall, angular youth with 
bushy red hair and twinkling blue eyes. 

Don Hale," answered one of the new- 


comers. 


12 


Don Hale 


“ George Glenn,” replied the other. 

'' Of the Lafayette Squadron ? ” 

“ Exactly ! And on a couple of days* fur- 
lough.** 

And one of the natural but not very agree- 
able ways of the world was exemplified then 
and there ; for Don Hale, the prospective 
student of the great military fiying school, 
immediately found his presence totally ig- 
nored, while his companion, member of the 
most famous escadrille of the aviation service, 
began to receive the homage and admiration 
due to one who had attained such an exalted 
position in life. To be a member of the 
Lafayette Flying Corps was indeed a signal 
honor — an honor coveted above all things 
by the majority of the American aviation 
students. 

Don Hale, smiling a little to himself, there- 
upon seized the opportunity to examine the 
view outspread before him. 

And what the boy saw made him draw a 
deep, long breath, like one who has just ex- 
perienced a feeling of vast satisfaction and 
pleasure. It was an immense level field, or 
rather a series of fields. Far in the distance 


With the Flying Squadron 13 

long rows of low canvas hangars and tents 
stood out in faint gray tones against the back- 
ground of earth and sky. Nearer at hand 
were lines of rather dingy-looking wooden 
structures — the barracks — and isolated build- 
ings used for various purposes, while dominat- 
ing all rose a tall and graceful wireless mast. 

Far more interesting to the American lad, 
however, was the sight of several airplanes 
performing evolutions in the distant sky. 
The sun had descended in the west and its 
cheerful rays no longer touched the earth, but 
every now and again one or another of the 
graceful flying machines caught the glow, 
and, as if touched by a fairy^s wand, became 
transformed for the moment into a flashing 
object of silver and gold. 

Don Hale felt his pulse quicken. How 
wonderful it was to be up in the heavens, 
soaring with all the ease, the grace, the cer- 
tainty of a huge bird of the air I It made him 
long for the time to come when he, too, would 
have his ambition fulfilled I Presently a deep 
gruff voice broke in upon his meditations. 

“ Better come down to earth, son.^' 

The red-headed chap had spoken. 


H 


Don Hale 


Sure thing I '' laughed the new student. 

What’s that, sir — my last job, you ask ? Oh, 
driving a Red Cross ambulance near the Ver- 
dun front.” 

“ I must say we seem to have met a couple 
of real heroes,” chuckled the other. “ And 
now, to show you that I haven’t forgotten my 
Fifth Avenue manners. I’ll introduce these 
would-be flyers, most of whom as yet haven’t 
risen above the grasshopper stage of the 
game.” 

Thereupon, with many chuckles, he pre- 
sented Gene Shannon, Cal Cummings, Ben 
Holt and Roy Mittengale, adding that his own 
name was Tom Dorsey. 

Glad to know you all I ” declared Don 
Hale, heartily. 

So am I,” exclaimed George. 

Very gratifying indeed, I’m sure I ” 
laughed Dorsey. We all hope that later on 
some people about whom we are hearing a 
whole lot won’t bo so glad to meet us.” 

Oh, you coming aces I ” grinned Ben 
Holt. 

“ Hooray, hooray, for the future cannon- 
flying express I ” chuckled Mittengale. Then, 


With the Flying Squadron 15 

turning toward Don, he said : I suppose 
that the day you didn^t run into at least a 
half dozen or so hair-breadth escapes must 
have seemed like a pretty dull one ? 

I had all the close calls I wanted,’' con- 
fessed the former ambulance driver. 

“ And yet you are now going in for some- 
thing which at times ought to make that Red 
Cross work look like little rides of joy. Ever 
take a spin in a plane? " 

No, sir." 

“ Oh, boy I There’s some job ahead of you, 
then." Mittengale laughed. You’ll have to 
get right down to business." 

" You can just better believe I will I ’’ de- 
clared Don, enthusiastically. “ I’m mighty 
anxious for the time to arrive when I can go 
up to business." 

It may never come," suggested Ben Holt. 
‘^’Tisn’t everybody who is fitted to be an air- 
man. One or two bad spills — an airplane 
ready for the scrap pile, or a student now and 
then killed on the training field, and it’s all 
off with some I ’’ 

" If you don’t look out. Holt, we’ll elect you 
chairman and sole member of our committee 


i6 


Don Hale 

on pessimism,” laughed Dorsey. “ Say, son,” 
— he addressed Don — “ I suppose you have all 
your papers? 

“ Yes, and owing to my father having been 
a member of a Franco-American aviation 
corps I didn’t have much trouble in getting 
them,” returned Don. “ He’s now an in- 
structor in an American aviation school.” 

What did they do to you ? I’d like to 
know if your experiences were like my own.” 

Well, here’s the story,” laughed the new 
pilot. ** I hoofed it to the recruiting of- 
fice, which is located in the Invalides at 
Paris, filled out a questionnaire, signed a docu- 
ment requiring me to obey the military laws 
of France and be governed and punished 
thereby ; then, after that agony was over, the 
medical man took me in charge. I just had 
to show him that I was able to balance my- 
self on one foot with eyes closed, jump straight 
up from a kneeling position, and also walk a 
straight line after having been whirled around 
and around on a revolving stool until all the 
joy in life seemed to have gone.” 

“ Ugh I ” grunted Dorsey. “ The very rec- 

^ Illdve — pupil. 


With the Flying Squadron 17 

ollection of that ordeal makes me wish to rec- 
ollect something else.” 

The kind of air-sickness you get by the 
unearthly dips and twists of an airplane has 
sea-sickness beaten to a frazzle,” commented 
Ben Holt, pleasantly. 

” Then I'm not anxious to make its ac- 
quaintance,” grinned Don. ** I had a few 
nerve tests, too, made in a pitch-dark room, 
which weren't altogether pleasant. Among 
other things, a revolver was unexpectedly 
fired several times close beside me.” 

“ It's tough, how they treat a perfectly 
respectable chap,” chirped Cal Cummings. 

“ My, what a relief it was to receive a serv- 
ice order requiring me to report to the head- 
quarters of the Flying Corps of Dijon I ” 

That's an old story with us,” drawled 
Mittengale. Once there, you had to answer 
a lot more questions. Tll^n you paid a visit 
to the ‘ Vestiare,' where the soldiers are out- 
fitted. A uniform, shoes, socks, overcoat, hat 
and knapsack were passed out, ahd thereby, 
and also perforce, another chapter added to 
your brief but eventful history.” 

” Besides all that, I received a railroad pass 


i8 


Don Hale 


to come here, and also three sous, represent- 
ing that many days’ pay,’^ chuckled the new 
candidate. “ The salary Tve already squan- 
dered,” he confessed, with a grin. 

Awful I The French Government should 
be told about it,” exclaimed Gene Shannon, 
laughingly. “ But now, son, perhaps you 
would like to begin a new chapter by paying 
the captain a very necessary call ? ” 

To be sure I ” said Don. 

He stooped over, preparatory to gathering 
up his belongings, when Shannon stopped 
him. 

Leave the department store there, Don,” 
he remarked. ” We’ll send some of the 
Annamites over to wrestle with ’em. Now 
come along.” 

The Annamites,” both Don and George 
knew, were the little yellow-skinned Indo- 
Chinese, who had journeyed from far-off Asia 
to give their services to the French Govern- 
ment. 

Led by Tom Dorsey, the crowd began to 
pilot the new student and his chum toward 
headquarters. To Don Hale it was all won- 
derfully interesting. The boy was filled with 


With the Flying Squadron 19 

that eager curiosity and anticipation which is 
one of the glorious possessions of youth. A 
new life — indeed a startlingly strange life, 
would soon be opening out before him — one 
that held vast possibilities, and also terrifying 
dangers. Whither would it lead him ? 

“ I say, young chap — Ben Holt’s voice 
broke in upon his thoughts—^ you’ve got to 
mind your eye in this place. No talking 
back to ofiBcers ; no overstaying your leave, 
eh. Monsieur Nightingale? ” 

Oh, cut it out I ” snapped Mittengale. 

** Yes, there’s a chap who knows I ” Holt 
chuckled. One day Roy thought he’d enjoy 
a few extra hours in Paree — result : a nice 
little chamber two stories underground ; a 
rattling good wooden bench, but uncommonly 
hard, as a bed ; a bottle of water for company 
and eight days of delightful idleness, to 
meditate upon the inconsiderate ways of 
military men.” 

It was well worth it,” growled Mittengale. 
“ Some tender-hearted chaps smuggled in 
paper and I wrote sixty-four pages of my 
book entitled * Life and Adventures of an 
Airman in France I ’ ” 


20 


Don Hale 


“ An airman in France I snickered Ben. 
‘‘ There's nerve for you I Why, he hasn't 
even been above the three hundred foot level 
yet." 

'‘Well, that's just about two hundred and 
seventy-five feet higher than your best record," 
retorted Mittengale, witheringly. “Don't talk, 
you poor little grasshop." 

Don Hale paid no attention to these pleas- 
antries, for, at that moment, one of the distant 
machines circling aloft, now dusky, gray 
objects, sometimes but faintly visible in the 
darkening sky, began to volplane. Down, 
down, came the biplane, in wide and graceful 
spirals, toward the earth. A few more turns 
and the wings were silhouetted faintly for the 
last time against the sky ; another instant 
and they cut across the turf in still swiftly 
moving lines of grayish white. 

“ Good work, that I " cried Don, • breath- 
lessly. 

“ Fine I " agreed George. 

“ Won't I be jolly glad when I can manage 
a machine like that I " Don happened to 
glance at his chum's face, and was surprised 
to see a swift, subtle change come across it, an 


2 


With the Flying Squadron 

almost sad expression taking the place of his 
usual buoyant look. '' What's the matter, old 
chap? " 

“ I was thinking what a dangerous life you 
are about to begin, Don. As some of the boys 
in the squadron say : * Death is often carried 
as a passenger by the airman.' " 

And you engaged in the very same work 
yourself I" laughed Don. ^'There's con- 
sistency for you I I understand, though, just 
how you feel about it, George. Honestly, at 
times, I've worried a whole lot about you. 
But " — a determined light flashed into his 
eyes — ‘‘ we must ' carry on ' the big job before 
us." 

** That's the way to look at it," acquiesced 
George, heartily. You have a cool head and 
steady nerves, Don ; and you'll be called upon 
to use all your wits, all your courage and 
resourcefulness, as never before in the whole 
course of your life. Great adventures are 
ahead I " 

" Better wait until he gets out of the 
ground-class before talking that way," grinned 
Ben Holt, dryly. 

" DonT discourage the infant class, Holt," 


22 


Don Hale 


put in Dorsey. “ Now, boys — he turned to 
face Don and George — “ that good-sized build- 
ing you spy just across the field is the head- 
quarters of the captain and moniteurs — 
teachers we call 'em in the good old lingo of 
the United States. By the way, know much 
French ? " 

Oh, yes," replied Don. 

“ Good I Frankly speaking, some of these 
chaps here do not." Dorsey chuckled mirth- 
fully. ‘‘ Their efforts sound weird and wild. 
And sometimes it has the efiect of making 
the moniteurs act wildly and weirdly." 

'‘The idea of Dorsey talking about French I" 
scoffed Ben Holt. " Why, he can't even speak 
English. An Englishman's the authority for 
that." 

" One's shortcomings should never be 
mentioned in polite society," grinned Tom. 
" And now, Don, while you're over there 
parleying the parlez-vous we'll get a bunch 
of the Oriental Wrecking Crew, the Annam- 
ites, to lift your traps." 

“ As a rule, I rather object to having my 
things lifted," laughed Don. " But this time 
it's all right." 


With the Flying Squadron 23 

You'll find our crowd, with a few addi- 
tions equally handsome, in the big barracks — 
the third from the end. Now scoot." 

While Don and George didn't exactly 
'‘scoot," they nevertheless immediately left 
the group and made good time toward the 
building indicated. Within a few minutes 
they entered and were conducted by an 
orderly to the captain's sanctum. 

If Don had expected any effusive greeting 
or words of commendation for his willingness 
to give his services to aid the cause of France 
he would have been greatly disappointed. 
The captain, very alert and authoritative in 
manner, greeted the two boys in a casual, dis- 
interested sort of way, and examined Don's 
papers. 

Then came the usual number of formalities 
and an order to report to the sergeant on the 
aviation field on the following morning. 

Don Hale was now duly enrolled as an 
ilh)ef or student pilot, in one of the most im- 
portant of the great Bleriot flying schools in 
France. 


CHAPTER II 


NEW COMRADES 

A PLEASANT refreshing breeze was springing 
up as Don Hale, with his chum, left head- 
quarters and hastened toward the barracks 
which was to be his temporary home. 

There were plenty of signs of life about the 
great plateau, and occasionally voices came 
over the air from the distance with peculiar 
distinctness. By this time all nature had be- 
come gray and sombre, and the slowly ad- 
vancing shadows which heralded the approach 
of dusk were enveloping the distant hangars 
and tents and merging the vast, sweeping line 
of the horizon almost imperceptibly into the 
coldish tones of the sky. 

Here and there lights were beginning to 
flash into view. From barrack windows, 
from tents and outbuildings, they shone — each 
little sparkling, star-like beam carrying with 
it a message of good cheer and welcome. 

Just before Don and George reached the 
barracks designated by Tom Dorsey, over the 
24 


With the Flying Squadron 25 

door of which was painted in very large black 
letters “ Hotel d'Amerique/^ a loud and lusty 
chorus, composed of French and American 
voices, accompanied by a piano, started up, 
singing wich ludicrous eflfect : 

‘^The Yanks are Coming. 

Then, as the last words were carried off on 
the breeze, the momentary silence that ensued 
was broken by a loud-voiced student standing 
by the window, who bawled : 

“ True enough, boys I — the Yanks are not 
only coming, but theyTe here.^^ 

The aviators immediately crowded to the 
window, and even before Don and George 
entered the building, which was to the accom- 
paniment of that well-known classic : ** Hail, 
hail ! The gang's all here I " they had re- 
ceived a noisy and good-natured welcome. 

A smiling and dapper little Frenchman was 
the first to shake them by the hand ; and 
having performed this act with much gravity 
he immediately struck an attitude and began 
to recite, in the manner of a schoolboy who 
has memorized a piece : 

Gentlemens, excuse the bleatings of a 


26 


Don Hale 


little chump who should remain silent before 
he speaks. Permit me to say, however, that 
you may use me as a doormat when it is your 
will and I shall be overwhelmed with joy. 
And now having bored you to tears I will de- 
sist.’^ 

He ended the oration, which some of the 
fun-loving, mischievous Americans had taught 
him, with a low bow, evidently much sur- 
prised at the chuckles and gurgles of mirth 
which ran through the room. 

Don Hale laughingly made a speech in re- 
ply, quite astonishing the Frenchmen present 
by his ready command of their tongue. 

And during it all he had been observing 
his new home with keen curiosity and lively 
interest. The interior of the long but rather 
low wooden structure was whitewashed, and 
ranged alongside each wall were rows of beds. 
They were makeshift affairs, however, con- 
sisting of a couple of sawhorses with a plank 
thrown across. Over the top had been placed 
a mattress, looking as though it had done 
long and valiant service. 

Clearly, the Ueves are expected to rough it 
a bit,’' thought Don, 


With the Flying Squadron 27 

It would be a strange boy indeed, however, 
who objected to roughing it — Don Hale, at 
least, was not one of that kind. 

The lad was glad to discover that the room 
was evidently occupied by Frenchmen, as 
well as by his own compatriots. At one end 
large posters made by some of the best known 
artists of France adorned the wall, while at 
the other were pictures clearly of American 
origin. 

Tom Dorsey made the introductions, adding 
a word or two, in a jocular fashion, about the 
characteristics of each. Very naturally, the 
new student took a decided interest in study- 
ing the Americans with whom he would 
be so closely associated during the weeks to 
come. ' 

“ Among those present ** were men of strik- 
ing dissimilarities in appearance — of widely 
different stations in life — of various degrees 
of wealth; but the call, of adventure, having 
brought them all together, had also served to 
unite them in a common spirit of comrade- 
ship perhaps impossible under other circum- 
stances. There was, for instance, Dave Corn- 
well, of New York, of the beau monde of 


28 


Don Hale 


Fifth Avenue, with aristocracy imprinted un- 
mistakably oil his clean-cut features. And in 
striking contrast to him was Sid Marlow, 
cowpuncher of Montana, deck hand on a 
Mississippi steamboat, longshoreman, and, 
lastly, fighter in the Foreign Legion. In fact, 
the majority of the American ^Rves had seen 
service in that famous branch of the French 
army, which had recruited its members from 
all parts of the world. No embarrassing ques- 
tions were asked ; an applicant's antecedents 
mattered little ; he was given a chance to re- 
trieve whatever mistakes he may have made, 
and, perhaps, through the fiery ordeal of 
battle, come out a vastly superior man. 

Several of the students particularly attracted 
Don Hale’s attention, one of them being T. 
Singleton Albert, referred to by his compan- 
ions as ‘‘ Drugstore ” ; for he had at one time 
been a drugstore clerk and soda-water dis- 
penser in Syracuse. Albert was a rather 
effeminate looking little chap, who seemed 
wholly out of place in an aviation school. He 
appeared diffident to the point of shyness, 
and his voice, delicate and refined, was seldom 
heard. Don Hale wondered if he would eyer 


With the Flying Squadron 29 

make a flyer, a profession in wliich courage 
and daring are such prime requisites. 

Another boy who interested the new stu- 
dent greatly was Bobby Dunlap, who had had 
the singular cognomen of Peur Jamais 
thrust upon him. Tom Dorsey airily ex- 
plained that on one occasion a student had 
demanded in French of Bobby if he experi- 
enced fear during a certain offensive in which 
the Foreign Legion took part, whereupon 
Bobby had blurted out the words Peur ? — 
Jamais! — Fear? — Never 1 in such a strenu- 
ous and convincing tone as to create a big 
laugh — also a new title for himself, and one 
that persistently stuck. 

There was a certain reserve and hauteur in 
the manner of a third young chap named 
Victor Gilbert which somehow appealed to 
Don Hale, suggesting to his imaginative mind 
that GilberPs sphere in life was, or rather had 
been, a little different from that of most of 
his fellow students. 

Conversation was going on briskly when a 
rumble of wheels outside made Don hurry to 
the window. 

“ IPs the camion bringing in some of the 


30 


Don Hale 


real birds from the ^raTide or principal 
flying field, which is a good long way from 
here/’ volunteered Peur Jamais. “Those 
chaps are the stuff — yes, sir. By Jove, they^d 
make an eagle jealous I Eagles canT fly up- 
side down, can they? Of course not; but 
some of our boys can.’' 

“ It’s a great life if you don’t weaken,” put 
in Tom Dorsey. 

“ Ever feel any symptoms of it ? ” asked 
Don, smilingly. 

“ Sure I — a hundred times.” 

“ I never did,” put in Drugstore, in his 
mild, weak voice. “ To-morrow,” he cleared 
his throat and paused impressively, his man- 
ner indicating that some information of vast 
importance was about to be communicated — 
“ to-morrow ” — another instant of hesitation, 
and he began again — “ to-morrow I’m going 
to make my first flight in the air.” 

“ That means flying at an altitude of 
twenty-five feet at most,” giggled Mitten- 
gale. 

“ I reckon it also means a machine smashed 
to bits in landing,” chirped Peur Jamais. 
“ They say it costs the French government an 


With the Flying Squadron 31 

average of five thousand dollars to train its 
aviators. I'll bet in your case, Drugstore, 
they’ll get off cheap at ten thousand.” 

Don Hale, his head thrust out of the win- 
dow, now saw the returning aviators tumbling 
ofi* the big camion which had halted before 
the door. 

In another moment they bustled into the 
barracks, and the yellowish rays of the oil 
lamps fell with strange and picturesque effect 
across their forms. Each was encased in a 
great leather coat and trousers and wore a 
helmet made from the same heavy material. 
Several, too, still had on their grotesque- 
looking goggles. 

They make me think of Arctic explorers,” 
declared Don, with a delighted little laugh. 

Don was experiencing a pleasurable sensa- 
tion, not unmixed with a certain sense of awe. 
Here, right before him, were actually some of 
the men who but a short time before had been 
piloting their machines at dizzy heights in 
the sky. The fascination of it all seemed to 
grip him strangely — to make him impatient 
and anxious to begin his initiation into the 
art of flying. 


32 


Don Hale 


** Another little eaglet, sir, ready to carry 
terror into the heart of the Kaiser.” 

In these words Tom Dorsey was introduc- 
ing him to one of the “ real birds.” 

The aviator was only a young chap, not 
many years older than Don, but, like many 
of the Americans and Frenchmen present, he 
had allowed his face to remain unshaven, and 
the resulting growth of beard gave him quite 
an appearance of maturity. 

“ There’s a big lot of difference between the 
way flying schools are conducted over here 
and in America and Canada,” volunteered the 
aviator, whose name, Don learned, was Hamp- 
ton Coles. '' On our side of the big pool 
discipline is probably as strict as in any other 
branch of the army. We go in for drills and 
all that sort of thing, while in France, at least 
at present, the schools are only semi-military 
in character. The object is to turn out flyers 
as quickly as possible, which means casting a 
whole lot of theories, red tape and non- 
essentials into the junk heap. Flyers are 
needed — badly needed. The ‘ eyes of the 
array,’ they call them.” 

/‘At what time does work begin?” asked Don. 


With the Flying Squadron 33 

“ We’re in our planes shortly after dawn. 
At nine o^clock the first session is over ; then 
it^s back to the barracks. Dinner is served at 
one o^clock, and after that the boys are free to 
do what they please until five. On our re- 
turn to the 'pistCy or flying field, we usually 
keep steadily at it until nearly dark.'’ 

How does it happen that so many are 
here at this hour ? ” 

Oh, this crowd only represents a small 
portion of the students who, for one reason or 
another, stopped work a bit early,” replied 
Hampton. ‘‘In all, we have about one hun- 
dred and twenty-five men, and among them 
are several Russians — daring chaps they are, 
too, but rather poor flyers.” 

“ But the Americans seem pretty good at 
it, eh ? ” 

Hampton Coles laughed. 

“ The moniteurs are always bawling out 
some of the best Uives for doing unnecessary 
and risky stunts,” he declared. “ I imagine 
they think we’re a reckless, hair-brained lot. 
However ” — his tone suddenly sobered ; his 
eyes were turned thoughtfully off into the 
distance — “ it doesn’t do to take many chances 


34 


Don Hale 


ill the air. It’s mighty tricky ; and so are 
the machines. Some of our boys have already 
paid the penalty. Yes, it’s a dangerous game, 
son.” 

” Which only makes it a lot more interest- 
ing,” put in Drugstore, quietly. 

“ To be sure I ” laughed Coles. ” But, as 
this rig o’ mine is getting to feel prominent, 
I’ll skip.” 

Jack Norworth presently sauntered over to 
tell Don that in order to get a bed he would 
have to go to the commissary depot, about a 
half mile distant. 

” I’ll hoof it with you,” he volunteered. 

** Good ! ” said Don. 

George and Drugstore elected to accom- 
pany them ; so the four immediately left the 
Hotel d’Amerique, and, through the slowly- 
gathering shades of night, started off. 

” By the way, where are you staying ? ” 
asked Jack, turning to George Glenn. 

” At a hotel in the little village of Etain- 
ville,” replied the young member of the La- 
fayette Squadron. 

” Why, it’s at Etainville that we have our 
club I ” cried Jack. 


With the Flying Squadron 35 

“ A club ? " queried Don, interestedly. 

“ Sure thing I ” 

I don^t like clubs/^ commented Drug- 
store. 

“ Why not ? '' demanded Jack. 

Oh, the fellows are always calling upon a 
chap to tell a story, make a speech or do 
something else to amuse ^em/' returned 
Drugstore, rather hesitatingly. 

“ Well, what of it? ” 

''Some can do that sort of thing, but not 
I.'" The former dispenser of soda-water spoke 
in plaintive tones. "Half the time I can't 
think of the words I want and when I do 
think of 'em they're not the right ones." 

" Oh, what you need is a correspondence 
school course in the art of self-expression — 
' think of your feet ; latent power aroused ; 
trial lesson free ; send no money,' " chuckled 
Jack. 

" Let's hear about the club," said Don. 

" It meets in a typical little inn called the 
Caf6 Rochambeau. The floor is of sanded 
brick ; there are cobwebs everywhere ; cats 
and dogs wander in and out. It's all rustic, 
dusty and charming. Say, George, have 


Don Hale 


36 

supper at our mess to-night, then, after- 
ward, you and Don can travel over with the 
bunch/' 

“ Thanks ! I'll be delighted," said George. 

The four soon reached the commissary 
depot. Attendants dragged from its generous 
supply of stores the necessary portions of the 
bed and delivered them to the boys. Quite 
naturally, the march back, hampered as they 
were by the cumbersome articles, did not 
prove to be agreeable. Finally, however, 
rather hot and tired, they reached the Hotel 
d'Amerique. 

It took but a few minutes to put the rude 
contrivance called a bed together in its place 
alongside the wall, and by this time the crowd 
was being considerably augmented by the stu- 
dents returning from the jpiste, 

" Come along, you chaps ! I'll pilot you to 
the grub department," exclaimed Peur 
Jamais. " It won't make you think of the 
Waldorf Astoria." 

" Never mind 1 They've got things on the 
menu the Waldorf hasn't," chuckled Gene 
Shannon. 

For instance? " asked Don. 


With the Flying Squadron 37 

** Horse-meat/' 

I'm game," laughed the new student. 

Less than five minutes later Don and 
George, at the head of the advance-guard, 
reached the dining-hall. They found it a 
crude, unpretentious structure exteriorally, 
and equally crude and unpretentious in re- 
gard to its interior arrangements. The tables 
were of rough boards, and tabourets, or stools, 
took the place of chairs. 

The mess-hall was soon filled with a noisy, 
jolly crowd. Clearly, the hazardous nature of 
the work had no distressing effects on the 
minds of the 6l^ves. To judge by the manner 
of those present, theirs might have been the 
least dangerous of professions ; yet, neverthe- 
less, the talk often reverted to the accidents 
or near-accidents which had occurred on the 
flying field. But it was the keen enthusiasm 
of all that especially appealed to Don Hale. 
Probably none among the gathering enjoyed 
the meal more than he. The dim, fantastic 
light cast by the oil lamps, the sombre ever- 
changing shadows on faces and forms, the 
grotesque and larger shadows that sported 
themselves on the four walls, the shrouded, 


Don Hale 


38 

obscured corners, all added their share to the 
charm and novelty. 

A particularly fastidious person could very 
easily have found fault with the meal, which 
consisted of soup, meat, mashed potatoes, 
lentils, war bread and coffee. The horse-meat 
was tough, the lentils rather gritty, as though 
some of the soil in which they were planted 
had determinedly resolved to stand by them 
to the end. But to hungry men, whose lives 
in the open meant healthy, vigorous appetites, 
such little unconventionalities in the art of 
cooking were of but trifling importance. 

As the students were filing out, not in the 
most orderly fashion, into the clear, moonlit 
night, Jack Norworth joined Don and George. 

All ready, boys, for the Cafe Rocham- 
beau ? ” he asked. 

“ You bet we are I " cried Don. 


CHAPTER III 


SPIES 

To reach the peaceful village of ^fetainville, 
which, more fortunate than many another in 
France, had never known the horror and 
tragedy of war, it was necessary to pass 
through several little patches of woods. That 
walk with a number of his compatriots proved 
to be a very delightful one to Don Hale. 
Nature, in the soft, greenish moonlight, which 
filtered in between the foliage and ran in 
straggling lines and patches on the under- 
brush or fell in splotches on the trunks and 
branches, presented a very poetic — a very 
idyllic appearance. Here and there, amid 
the pines and firs, gnarled, rugged oaks, ages 
old, reared their spreading branches against 
a cloudless sky. A fragrant, delightful odor, 
like incense, nature^s own, filled the air ; and 
the gentle sighing of leaves and grasses swayed 
to and fro by a capricious breeze joined with 
the ever constant chant of the insect world of 
the woods. 


39 


Don Hale 


40 

Etainville possessed only one main street, a 
cobbled, winding highway, lined on either 
hand with picturesque and sometimes dilapi- 
dated houses. Near the centre of the village 
rose the ancient church, the tall and graceful 
spire of which could be seen over the country- 
side for many miles. The twentieth century 
is a busy and a bustling age. Progress, ever 
on the alert, fairly leaps ahead, but it seemed 
to have carefully avoided ^fetainville in its 
rapid march. 

Of all its inhabitants, none was better 
known or liked than old P^re Goubain, pro- 
prietor, as was his father and grandfather be- 
fore him, of the Caf6 Rochambeau. Pere 
Goubain was very fat — so fat, indeed, that he 
sat practically all day long in a big armchair. 
During the winter it was generally in the 
main room of the caf6, before the big round 
stove near the centre ; but the summer days 
generally found him comfortably installed in 
the garden which enclosed the old stuccoed 
building. 

Pdre Goubain appeared to be the very per- 
sonification of contentment, except, however, 
when the Germans happened to be mentioned 


With the Flying Squadron 41 

within his hearing. Then, his rubicund face 
became redder, his mild, blue eyes fairly 
blazed with a fierce, vindictive light, and, al- 
together, he looked quite ferocious indeed. 

Such, then, was the Caf§ Rochambeau and 
the man who greeted the crowd of Americans. 
To Don and George he was especially gracious. 
He asked many questions, and delightedly 
informed them that only the day before he 
had actually seen a detachment of American 
soldiers marching through the village street. 

** Ah I and how grand they looked, mes 
amis r’ he cried. ‘‘With their help — ‘On 
les aura * — we shall get them I Ah, les 
Boches 1 

The placid look on his face was gone, and, 
rising in his chair, he began to sing in a deep 
bass voice : 

“ ‘ Ye sons of freedom, wake to glory ! 

Hark, bark, what myriads bid you rise I 
Your children, wives and grandsires hoary, 
Behold their tears and hear their cries ! 

Behold their tears and hear their cries ! 

Shall hateful tyrants, mischief breeding, 

With hireling hosts, a ruffian band, 

Affright and desolate the land. 

When peace and liberty lie bleeding ? 


42 


Don Hale 


To arms — to arms, ye brave ! 

Th’ aveuging sword UDslieathe, 

March on, march on, all hearts resolved 
On liberty or death. ^ 

Vigorous indeed was the chorus which ac- 
companied Pere Goubain’s rendition of the 
first stanza of the Marseillaise,” and vigorous 
indeed were the plaudits that resounded 
throughout the room when the old French- 
man sank back in his armchair. 

Yes, the Yanks are the boys to do it,” 
exclaimed Peur Jamais. ** Now, mes gar- 
90ns — for the council chamber I ” 

The “ Council Chamber ” was an apartment 
adjoining the main room of the caf§. An ob- 
long table stood in the centre, smaller ones by 
the walls ; and there were plenty of chairs and 
tabourets for the use of the Americans, for the 
room practically belonged to them. Very 
often old Pere Goubain honored the gathering 
by his presence, and on this occasion he raised 
his ponderous form, and, with lumbering 
tread, followed his guests inside. 

For their benefit Pere Goubain, a veteran 
of the Franco-Prussian war, told several in- 
teresting reminiscences about that memorable 


With the Flying Squadron 43 

conflict ; then, abruptly, he branched off into 
a subject which brought the old fiery look 
back into his usually placid blue eyes. 

Ah, what a wonderful system of espionage 
the Boches have I '' he exclaimed. “ Its sin- 
ister ramifications extend to every corner of 
our great land and far beyond the eeas.^' 

Know anything about it? ” queried Peur 
Jamais, with interest. 

Listen, rues amis — old Pere Goubain 
spoke gravely : Many officers are among my 
acquaintances. One of them belongs to the 
French Flying Corps, and he, poor fellow, 
while in a scouting plane far over the enemy's 
lines, had the great misfortune to be obliged 
to descend in hostile territory." 

** Captured ? " asked Peur Jamais, quite 
breathlessly. 

*‘He was. But" — a grim smile played 
about the Frenchman's mouth — somehow, 
he managed to make his escape, and, after the 
most nerve-racking ordeals, succeeded in 
reaching the Swiss frontier, and from thence 
returned to France. In this very room, Mes- 
sieurs, he told me his experiences." 

Immediately, to Don Hale, and probably 


44 


Don Hale 


also to a number of the others, that modest 
interior became invested with a singular in- 
terest — with a strange and subtle charm. 
How wonderful to think that a man who had 
passed through such harrowing adventures 
should have actually been in that very place ! 

‘‘ And do you know,^' continued Pere Gou- 
bain, with vehemence, “ that when the Ger- 
man officers learned the aviator’s name, 
astounding as it may seem, they told him 
many facts concerning his own history.” 

“ But how in the world did the Boches ever 
learn them?” demanded Peur Jamais. 

“ As I said before, spies are everywhere ; 
one cannot know whom to trust. Listen, my 
friends : not a hundred years ago, one of the 
officers belonging to a training school was ac- 
tually discovered to be a spy.” 

Whew I That’s going some I ” declared 
Sid Marlow to Don, while Peur Jamais, 
eagerness expressed in his eyes, began to look 
curiously about him, as though vaguely sus- 
picious that perhaps some among. those gath- 
ered together were not all they pretended to 
be. 

Before Pere Goubain could resume, several 



SPIES ARE EVERYWHERE 












With the Flying Squadron 45 

newcomers, also Americans, bustled past the 
door. 

General interest was immediately aroused 
by the discovery that one carried a bundle of 
Parisian dailies. 

But the old innkeeper had started to say 
something, and he intended to finish. 

Yes, Messieurs, the Boches possess many 
ways of obtaining information. For instance, 
I learned from another officer that spies have 
even boldly descended into the French or 
British lines, flying in airplanes captured from 
the Allies. Naturally, some of these pilots 
spoke excellent French ; others the English 
tongue equally well. Naturally, also, having 
all the appearance of belonging to the cause 
of freedom and justice, they escaped suspicion 
at the time, and were thus enabled to pick up 
much valuable information.'^ 

Very interesting I " drawled one of the 
late comers. But what's all that got to do 
with Captain Baron Von Richtofen?" 

'‘Captain Baron Von Richtofen ?" cried 
Peur Jamais, interrogatively. 

“ Never hear of him ? " 

“ No, Monsieur Carrol Gordon." 


46 Don Hale 

I have/^ said George, in an undertone to 
Don. 

'' Then Til read something for your special 
benefit, Mr. Peur Jamais.^^ 

Thereupon, Carrol Gordon, the owner .of 
the prized bundle, having opened one of the 
papers and allowed the yellowish glow of the 
lamplight to fall across the page, began : 

“ ^ Advices recently received from the west- 
ern theatre of battle state that the famous 
Red Squadron of Death, commanded by Cap- 
tain Baron Von Richtofen, has again made 
its appearance in several places along the 
front.’ ” 

“ * The Red Squadron of Death I ’ ” echoed 
Peur Jamais, something akin to awe in his 
tone. 

' The Red Squadron of Death I ' ** repeated 
Don. 

Quite an impressive title. I’ll admit,” re- 
marked Carrol, smiling at the great interest 
which the article had evidently aroused. He 
resumed : 

* The Albatross planes belonging to this 
feared and death-dealing squadron are painted 
a brilliant scarlet from nose to tail. All are 


With the Flying Squadron 47 

manned by pilots of the greatest skill and 
daring; and only the most experienced air 
fighters of the Allies can expect to cope with 
these crafty and dangerous enemies. The 
bizarre idea of the red planes is no doubt an 
attempt on the part of Captain Baron Von 
Richtofen to instil fear into the hearts of the 
Allied Flying Corps. At any rate, the re- 
appearance of this squadron, which claims to 
have destroyed more than sixty allied planes, 
heralds the near approach of many bitter 
battles in the air.' " 

As Carrol Gordon ceased reading he looked 
around and remarked : 

Some news, eh ? Now how many of you 
are going to pack your trunks and slide for 
home? " 

And to think of T. Singleton Albert, the 
great soda-water clerk of Syracuse, going up 
against such a game as that I ” put in Tom 
Dorsey, irrelevantly. '' Poor Drugstore I " 

** One thing to remember always is this, 
mes gardens," exclaimed old P^re Goubain, 
nodding his head sagely : “ Imagination is a 
very wonderful thing, and the Boche Baron 
must realize the hold it has on certain natures. 


Don Hale 


48 

Imagination, mes amis, can have the effect of 
glorifying the most ordinary and common- 
place of objects and detracting from the most 
sublime. It can rob the heart of determina- 
tion and destroy hope, and, equally well, it 
can raise a man's courage to such heights as 
to place him on the pinnacle of fame. Bah, 
I say, for the Baron’s red birds I ” The inn- 
keeper snapped his fingers derisively. I 
cannot believe that any air fighters of the 
Allies would be frightened by a few cans of 
paint.” 

Well spoken, P^re Goubain I ” laughed 
Hampton Coles. ‘‘ Yours are the words of a 
wise man; which proves that an innkeeper 
can be a philosopher as well as a server to the 
material needs of humanity.” 

** How would you like to be a combat pilot 
and meet the Baron, yourself? ” asked Jack 
Norworth, quizzically. 

It would be quite impossible, mon garden,” 
sighed Pere Goubain. My weight, alas I 
would sink the ship.” 

Shall I give him a message from you if 
we should happen to meet?” laughed George 
Glenn. 


With the Flying Squadron 49 

** Yes, and let it be accompanied by a fusil- 
lade of machine gun bullets/' 

Don Hale thoroughly enjoyed his evening 
at the club. Instinctively he felt that it was 
a sort of dividing line between ease and com- 
fort and a strenuous existence, with dangers 
and perils ever present from the moment he 
became in actuality an pilot of the Nicole 
Militaire d'Aviation de Beaumont. 

Finally good-byes were said to Pere Goubain, 
and the crowd filed into the great outdoors. 
The village street was enveloped in the soft 
light of the moon, and but for the bark of a 
distant dog would have been silent. The 
stuccoed buildings rose pale and ghostlike, or 
in sombre, mysterious tones, against the sky, 
and deep shadows crossed the cobbled high- 
way. A few beams of light to cheer those 
who might be astir came from the windows 
of the ancient, time-worn hostelry, the Hotel 
Lion d'Or, where George Glenn was staying. 

At the entrance, Don and the others bid 
the combat pilot of the Lafayette Squadron 
good-night, and then the march back to the 
flying field was begun. It was rather late 
when they arrived at the barracks. The ex- 


50 


Don Hale 


citement, the great desire to begin his school- 
ing and the new surroundings all tended to 
drive sleepy feelings away from Don Hale. 
But Mittengale very solemnly assured him 
that unless he '' hit the pillow ” at once he 
would be liable to have regretful feelings in 
the morning. 

** I know, because I know,'' he declared. 

Then 1^11 ‘ hit the pillow/ ** laughed Don. 

The sound of laughter and voices was 
gradually ceasing as Don Hale climbed into 
his bed. 

Several of the lamps had been extinguished 
and the interior of the big barracks certainly 
appeared very sombre — very gloomy indeed. 
Here and there details made a valiant effort 
to reveal their presence, but, for the most 
part, shadows, grotesque in shape, deep and 
grim in tone, held the mastery. 

Presently Don Hale's impressions became a 
little confused, and, within a very few minutes, 
he was sleeping that sound and dreamless 
slumber which is another of the glorious 
possessions of youth. 


CHAPTER IV 


PENGUINS 

“1 SAY, boy, wake up I Didn't you hear 
the bugle sound ? The reveille I Wake up, 
for goodness' sake I You'll be late. It's al- 
most three-thirty now. You have that early 
morning feeling, eh? — a pippin of a feeling, 
too I I know, because I know I " 

The sense of this string of words, jerked 
out with extraordinary rapidity by Roy Mit- 
tengale, was quite lost on Don Hale's mental 
faculties, but, nevertheless, they had exactly 
the effect the speaker intended. With a start 
and a half-stifled gasp, the new student sat up. 

Morning I Was it possible that morning 
had already come? Of course not I He 
hadn't before suspected Mittengale of being a 
practical joker. Morning, indeed I He felt 
quite vexed — quite exasperated, in fact. 

The effects his eyes took in were precisely 
similar to those he had seen on retiring — the 
same glimmering yellowish lights, the same 
lurking shadows, the long row of windows 
51 


52 Don Hale 

framing in the palish moonlight of the out- 
side world. 

He was about to protest. But before he 
had time the big room, all at once, became 
filled with noise and commotion — with the 
sounds of men jumping out of bed, of men 
talking, of men hurrying and bustling about 
as though their very lives depended upon the 
swiftness of their movements. 

So, after ail, Roy wasn’t a practical joker. 

** All right I All right I ” mumbled Don. 

I’ll get right up.” 

You’d better,” continued Mittengale, 
laughingly. 

Don Hale certainly had that early morning 
feeling, besides being cold and shivery ; but, 
though he devoutly wished that he might en- 
joy a few minutes more of repose, he slipped 
off the mattress and fairly jumped into his 
clothes. By the time Don had finished 
dressing he was alone. 

A swift dash for the door and a brisk run 
after leaving the barracks enabled him, how- 
ever, to overtake speedily the more tardy 
students. 

It was still a calm, serene moonlight night. 


With the Flying Squadron 53 

with the stars dimmed by the greater lustre 
of the earth’s satellite, and no hint, no trace 
of color in the eastern sky to herald the ap- 
proach of another day. 

The destination of the hurrying crowd Don 
found was the wash-house situated not far 
away ; and on arriving there he discovered 
that certainly “ all the comforts of home ” ap- 
peared to be lacking. 

A dash of cold water over his face and arms 
made the boy feel the need of brisk exercise 
to counteract the effects of the damp, pene- 
trating chilliness of that early matinal hour. 
Moisture glistened and sparkled on the tufts 
of grass, and low over the earth stretched long 
ghostly streamers of mist. High up in the 
heavens a flock of unseen crows, flying swiftly 
past, sent their cries far over the crisp, fresh 
air, but, rapidly, distance softened and then 
stifled the unmusical chorus. 

A rush back to the barracks with the rest 
of the students put warmth into Don Hale’s 
shivery frame. 

‘‘ Get in line, son, for the roll call,” com- 
manded Tom Dorsey. 

In an orderly double column the students 


54 


Don Hale 


ranged themselves alongside the barracks, an 
officer appeared and the formality began. 

Proudly, the new student answered “ pres- 
ent ” as he heard his name pronounced by 
the officer. 

‘^Now I suppose we'll get a bite to eat," he 
remarked to Mittengale, when the men broke 
ranks. 

Your * suppose ' is all wrong," chuckled 
the other. “ Now you’ll learn what you’re 
up against." 

I suspect I’m up against a joker," laughed 
Don. 

But, again, his suspicion proved to be quite 
unfounded. The men were forming in line, 
and a few minutes later the march for the fly- 
ing fleld began. The day for which Don 
Hale had looked forward so long — so ex- 
pectantly — actually had come. His nerves, 
responding to the emotions aroused within 
him, were tingling, but tingling in a most de- 
lightful fashion. 

The very faintest trace of delicate color, an- 
nouncing the coming of day, now slowly be- 
gan to suffuse itself in the eastern sky. It 
was a cheerless and a gloomy hour, not au 


With the Flying Squadron S5 

hour, surely, for drooping spirits to be abroad ; 
but, fortunately, there appeared to be no droop- 
ing spirits among that semi-military line of 
marching men. 

Gradually the long row of curved-roofed 
hangars, partially hidden by the veils of 
mists, loomed forth more clearly. Before the 
head of the line had reached the first of the 
immense flying fields — there were three — 
numerous mechanics were rolling rather bat- 
tered-looking little monoplanes from beneath 
the protecting shelter of the canvas coverings 
and placing them side by side in long lines. 

‘‘ I say, my young knight of the air, cast 
your optics upon the ‘ penguins,* ** called 
Mittengale, who happened to be marching 
just ahead. 

Don Hale, however, required no such invi- 
tation. He was already studying the ma- 
chines with the most intense — the most eager 
interest. ** Penguins,** he knew, are Bleriot 
monoplanes, the wings of which have been so 
shortened as to render the machines powerless 
to lift themselves from the ground ; hence 
the rather curious appellation of ** penguins,** 
birds of that name not being able to fly. 


Don Hale 


56 

Certainly the penguins ” had an extraor- 
dinary fascination for the new candidate. To 
his active mind they suggested huge dragon- 
flies — all ready to wing their way lightly to 
other parts. 

A few moments later the boy was standing 
before the nearest machine. Now every sem- 
blance to a military line had vanished. Stu- 
dents, moniteurs, mechanics and laborers were 
all mingling together before the hangars. 

Some time later, while he was still regard- 
ing the machines with an absorbing degree 
of interest, the voice of the head instructor 
broke sharply in upon his thoughts. 

In loud tones he was calling out the names 
of various students and designating the num- 
bers of the machine they were to use. Imme- 
diately the future airmen began jumping into 
their places, and before many moments had 
passed every ** penguin in the long line had 
an occupant. 

“ Goodness I I certainly feel like an out- 
sider,^' murmured Don. I reckon I'd better 
hunt up the sergeant and " 

At that second the air became surcharged 
^ith 51 series of startling staccato explosions, 


With the Flying Squadron 57 

with roars, great crashes and bangs, quite 
ear-splitting in their intensity — the motors 
were being tested. Gradually the rising cres- 
cendo, suggestive of some strange, wild sym- 
phony, reached its greatest climax, and then 
as slowly began to subside. And presently, 
in its place, came the soft, pleasant drone and 
hum of many smoothly-working motors and 
propellers. 

Now the highly interested Don Hale saw 
the assistants removing the blocks from be- 
neath the wheels of the penguins and 
heard the moniteurs giving their pupils a few 
final words of advice. 

By Jove, don^t I wish I were in one of 
'em I " he muttered. “ Ah I " 

The assistants were giving the propellers of 
some of the nearer machines a swift turn ; 
and as the whirling blades became but misty 
circles the strange “ birds " got into action. 

By Jove ! " 

This time Don Hale uttered the exclama- 
tion aloud. 

A number of ** penguins " had begun to 
** taxi " across the field, and were soon travel- 
ing at a most tremendous speed. Some 


Don Hale 


58 

twisted and staggered about, as though, every 
instant, they must topple over sideways and 
smash their wings against the turf. Others 
exhibited every indication of halting their on- 
ward rush and spinning around and around 
like a top, while still others, as straight and 
true as a swift breeze tearing its way across 
the countryside, kept rapidly growing smaller 
and fainter in the distance. 

Yes, it truly was a remarkable spectacle 
that Don Hale had before his eyes. In the 
semi-darkness of that chill and early hour, 
the rushing “ penguins seemed to resemble 
a flock of huge birds, full of life, full of 
keen intelligence, rather than man-made ma- 
chines. 

There was a thrill and spice about the 
scene, too, which caused involuntary gasps to 
frequently come from the mouth of the stu- 
dent. Now and again, “ penguins,” while 
traveling at a headlong pace, seemed about to 
smash into one another. The boy almost held 
his breath. 

Ah I ” 

One was down. Another, hustling past the 
fallen ** bird,” just grazed its broken wing. 


With the Flying Squadron 59 

The game, even in the beginner^s class, was 
clearly not without its dangers. 

Now the most skilfully handled machines 
had reached their destination — the flag at the 
other end of the fleld — and were returning as 
though borne on the blasts of a hurricane. 
From faint, insigniflcant whitish specks they 
became huge winged creatures in a moment 
of time, seemingly intent upon crashing their 
tempestuous way into the groups of moni- 
teurs, mechanics and assistants and even 
through the hangars themselves. 

The tense-faced pilots, however, stopped the 
engines in time, and, one after another, the' 
** penguins ” docilely came to a halt. 

Grand sport, sure enough I cried Don, 
delightedly. He would have imparted this 
thought to others, too, but for the fact that 
not one among those all around him was pay- 
ing the slightest attention to his presence. It 
gave Don a rather unpleasant feeling, as 
though he was of very little importance. It 
also served to make him decide to report to 
the sergeant of the first class at once. 

Accordingly, he began walking toward the 
nearest group ; and then, for the first time, 


6o 


Don Hale 


he caught a glimpse of several of the Annam- 
ites attached to the aviation camp. Pictur- 
esque-looking little chaps they were, and 
unmistakably of the Orient from their yellow 
complexion and slanting, beady eyes to their 
small and stocky stature. They were about 
to cross the field. What was the meaning of 
that intrusion ? 

All at once Don Hale understood ; and, 
instinctively, his eyes were turned toward the 
fallen “ penguin, which, like a wounded 
bird brought low by the huntsman’s bullet, 
lay where misfortune had overtaken it. A 
little crowd was collecting, and soon he dis- 
covered three distant figures moving slowly 
toward the hangars, the one in the centre 
supported by those on either side. 

“ The pilot must have been injured,” thought 
Don, commiseratingly. 

In what seemed to be a very short time to 
him the sun was almost on the horizon, and 
eagerness to begin his task was gripping him 
with a strange intensity ; no small boy with 
a lively and joyous anticipation of a visit to 
the greatest show on earth ” could have ex- 
perienced more pleasurably sensations, and a 


With the Flying Squadron 6i 

glance toward the flying fields beyond served 
to even further increase them. Above the 
one adjoining, Bleriot monoplanes were flying 
at low altitudes ; still further in the distance 
he could see airplanes piloted by more ad- 
vanced members of the third and fourth class 
momentarily mounting in the air. The fly- 
ing fields were beginning to show a pleasant 
warmth of color, and the Farnum and Cau- 
dron machines, high aloft, catching the sun's 
reflections, sent them constantly flashing 
earthward. These planes possessed a certain 
grace, but they were heavy and clumsy craft 
indeed compared to several single-seaters — 
Nieuport or Spad machines. These, far out- 
classing the swiftest of the feathered tribe in 
their flight, darted in and out, swooped down- 
ward from dizzy heights or climbed upward 
until their wings appeared as the faintest 
gossamer lines against the soft, purplish tones 
of the sky. 

As Don set off in his quest for the sergeant 
the majority of the penguins " were racing 
and tearing about the field in the most ex- 
traordinarily erratic fashion. 

Sergeant Girodet was easily found, but, to 


62 


Don Hale 


Don Hale’s intense disappointment, the officer 
informed him that he would have to wait 
until the afternoon session, adding rather 
dryly : 

Monsieur will be safe and sound for sev- 
eral hours longer/^ 

Don laughed, rejoining : 

‘‘ And for a good many hours after that, I 
hope/^ 

The Annamites were now bringing in the 
wrecked and battered plane, headed for the 
repair shops, vast structures employing hun- 
dreds and hundreds of skilled mechanics and 
helpers. As they were near by and the night 
shift still at work, Don concluded to pay them 
a brief visit before journeying to the field 
where the third class, of which T. Singleton 
Albert was a member, flew in real airplanes to 
a height of no less than twenty-five feet. 

And just at this time the boy was over- 
joyed to hear a familiar, cheery voice shout- 
ing : 

Hello, Don I Hello, old chap 1 
Turning quickly, he spied his chum ap- 
proaching. 

My, but Fm jolly glad to see you, George I 


With the Flying Squadron 63 

he called. Playing the part of a wall- 
flower isn't a pleasant outdoor sport." 

Well, it's good you don't get up in the 
air about it," replied George, laughingly. 
** That's right — always keep your feet on the 
ground." 

I'll try to, even when I'm a few miles 
high," chirped Don. 

George agreeing to Don's plan, the two 
began traveling after the guttural-speaking 
Annamites. 

“ It strikes me * penguins ' ought to be 
easily managed," declared Don, reflectively. 
“ One just has to drive them in a straight line 
across the piste,** 

Yes, that's all," replied George. A 
twinkling light shone in his eyes. "But " 

" Difficult, eh, old chap ? " 

And though George nodded emphatically, 
Don, nevertheless, felt strongly inclined to 
think that when once in the pilot's seat he 
would surprise not only his chum but a few 
others as well. 

Shortly afterward the two reached the ma- 
chine and repair shops. 


CHAPTER V 


TRAINING 

Americans, of course, enjoyed a great 
popularity all over France, and, therefore, 
Don and George were welcome guests at the 
shops, which resembled huge manufacturing 
plants. They immediately found themselves 
surrounded by another kind of activity. The 
din and hum of machinery, the clanging of 
hammers, the explosive reports of motors 
vibrated over the air, all symbolizing, as it 
were, by means of sound, progress and labor. 

They build airplanes here as well as repair 
them,^^ explained George. 

As the two walked from one point to an- 
other Don Hale marveled at what he saw. 
The framework of hulls and of main planes, 
the latter with their strong but slender sup- 
porting spars, stood in long rows. Every- 
where skilled artisans, ordinary mechanics, 
and helpers worked on various parts of the 
64 


With the Flying Squadron 65 

planes. In the assemblage department Don 
and George stopped to watch the winged 
creations, one of the latest products of man’s 
inventive genius, being put together. A fore- 
man greeted them pleasantly. 

And what do the young Americans think 
of all this?’’ he inquired. 

Simply wonderful I ” responded Don, en- 
thusiastically. 

“ Very true I ” agreed the men. ** Ah I the 
art of airplane construction has advanced 
amazingly since the great world war began, 
mes Americaines. It is now a very exact 
science, where the laws bearing upon lateral 
and longitudinal balance, as well as many 
other things, have to be rigorously observed.” 

“ I believe that before 1914 the German 
equipment in the way of airplanes and 
dirigible balloons was greatly superior to either 
that of the French or English,” commented 
George. 

‘‘Yes, the Boches had been doing every- 
thing in their power to encourage the de- 
velopment of both types of machines, while 
the other nations, unmindful of the peril 
which menaced them, were satisfied to let the 


66 


Don Hale 


course of events in that particular direction 
merely drift along.’^ 

“ The Germans are said to have had, in 
addition to a fleet of huge Zeppelins, almost a 
thousand airplanes of the finest construction, 
while their aeronautical factories were rushing 
work on others,^' put in George. ** France 
possessed only about three hundred machines 
and England still less, probably as few as two 
hundred and fifty.*^ 

“ The Germans at that time held the 
world^s record for height and sustained fly- 
ing,’’ declared Don Hale. 

'' Correct,” admitted the artisan. They 
thought, too, that with the supremacy of 
their navy of the air, the supremacy of Great 
Britain’s fleet on the sea could be more than 
overcome and England invaded. But” — the 
Frenchman clenched his fists — our enemies 
— your enemies — the enemies of the entire 
world realize at last their error. They failed I 
they failed ! The supremacy of the air now 
rests with the Allies.” 

And yet, for a while, the Germans had 
the best scouting and fighting planes,” com- 
mented George, 


With the Flying Squadron 67 

“ Yes ; the Fokkers. But La France re- 
plied to that challenge by constructing the 
famous Nieuport, the swiftest, the most easily 
maneuvered airplane that flies. Come I Let 
me show you a sample/^ 

Don and George, smiling a little at the 
tremendous earnestness exhibited by the 
Frenchman, followed him to another part 
of the great shop, where the most skilled 
workers were putting the finishing touches to 
several Nieuports of the latest model. They 
were delicate but staunch little machines — 
their lines as graceful as those of any yacht ; 
and each was finished with a degree of care 
and attention to detail which scarcely seemed 
warranted when the perilous nature of the 
career they were so soon to embark upon was 
considered. 

What perfect beauties I cried Don. 

Crickets, George I DonT I wish all my 
training period were over, so that I could 
sail sky-high in one of these little rockets I 
The speed of a rocket, Don, wouldnT do 
you very much good while flying over the 
fighting front,'' replied his chum, rather 
grimly. 


Don Hale 


Don, too impatient, too restless to remain 
mach longer indoors, soon started off with the 
other at his side. And all the while the 
obliging artisan kept imparting interesting 
bits of information. He told them something 
about the giant bi-motored Caudron, the 
Handley-Page and the Caproni, each type of 
machine representing the highest achievement 
in airplane building by the respective coun- 
tries of France, England and Italy. 

The Boches,'^ he added, with a scowl, 
have the Gothas.^^ 

I remember reading that some of the 
Gothas which bombed London had a wing- 
spread of seventy-eight feet, with motors of 
two hundred and sixty horse power, and 
carried, besides three men, hundreds of 
pounds of explosives,^^ remarked Don. 

Seventy-eight feet is nothing these days,^' 
commented the Frenchman, musingly. A 
hundred and fifty is more like it. You and 
I, mes Americaines, will live to see the time 
when huge flyers, with comfortable accommo- 
dations for passengers, can cross the Atlantic, 
linking still closer the old world and the 
new.” 


With the Flying Squadron 69 

Their volunteer guide now conducted the 
boys to another department, where they saw 
many women engaged in sewing together 
breadths of fine linen cloth destined to be 
stretched over the skeleton frames. 

Billions have been spent and are being 
expended in the airplane industry,'^ continued 
the man. Even piano and furniture facto- 
ries and many others have turned their at- 
tention to the fabrication of airplane parts, 
such as struts, ribs and propellers. And all 
this, in connection with aeronautic machinery, 
means work for thousands of mechanics. 
Vast quantities of raw material are required. 
Airplanes must be housed : therefore the 
erection of hangars and other types of build- 
ings will employ thousands more. Then, the 
training of aviators, too, is a pretty expensive 
operation. 

1 suppose so,^^ laughed Don. “ However, 
Til try to let ^em down as easily as I can. 
Coming, George ? 

After heartily thanking the obliging artisan 
for his courtesy the two left the busy shops. 

By this time the slowly-rising sun was 
casting its first pale and delicate tints over 


70 


Don Hale 


the earth. And with these rays the gloom 
which had taken possession of nature for so 
many hours began to lift. The dull and life- 
less landscape, freed from the embracing 
mists, took on an aspect of quiet beauty and 
charm, and drops of dew shone and sparkled 
like many a gem of purest ray serene.'' 

At a brisk walk Don and George set out for 
the distant aviation field, and before very long 
the ever moving “ penguins " were left far to 
the rear. Now Don and his chum had an 
excellent view of the real flying machines, as 
they winged their way in straight flights from 
one end of the jpiste to the other, or taxied 
over the ground to rise in the air with amaz- 
ing ease and lightness. 

Another crowd of moniteurs, students and 
mechanicians stood around, the moniteurs 
following the movements of the planes with 
the most critical attention. 

One after another the flyers alighted, some 
with ease and precision ; some striking the 
earth sufficiently hard to have thrown the 
pilot out had he not been buckled to his seat. 

Whew ! I'll bet lots of planes are 
smashed 1 " cried Don. 


With the Flying Squadron 71 

“ You win” said George, dryly. ** Hello I 
Look at the machine which just made that 
bully landing. Whom do you see on the 
pilot's seat?" 

Goodness gracious I As I live, it's Drug- 
store I " burst out Don. 

But as Don, unmindful of the moniteurs or 
the crowd, left George's side and rushed up to 
congratulate him on his success, T. Singleton 
Albert's face didn't have at all its usual half 
shy and modest look. Instead, it rather 
suggested the expression worn by some 
mighty hero on the occasion of his greatest 
triumph. 

“ Did you see me ? " cried Drugstore, 
breathlessl3^ 

I should say so ! " exclaimed Don. 

Flying I — Why, there's nothing to it, son. 
Oh, boy ! only a perfect boob couldn't handle 
these ships." Drugstore almost stuttered in 
his elation and excitement. ” But, take it 
from me, son, some of these chaps here couldn't 
learn to drive an ash cart. Hello I I say, 
Rogers " — he raised his voice — did you see 
me that time? I brought her down so easily 
I didn't even rumple the grass." 


72 Don Hale 

“ You’re up in the air right now, Singleton,” 
chortled Rogers. 

Albert, who had a pretty good command of 
French, swelled up with even greater pride as 
he listened to the moniteur’s ‘‘ C’est bien 
fait, mon ami — it was well done, my friend.” 

‘‘ ril soon be bumping into the clouds,” he 
declared, a confident grin on his face. 

The machine was quickly turned around 
by several Aniiamites, and then Drugstore, 
yelling loudly for every one to get out of the 
way, started his motor full blast ; whereupon 
the monoplane began to glide swiftly ahead. 
As the machine attained a speed of about 
forty miles an hour it gracefully left the ter- 
restrial globe several yards behind, and, like 
an arrow shot from the archer’s bow, cut 
through the still, silent air toward its distant 
goal. 

Some flyer, that baby I ” laughed Rogers. 

And, indeed, his comments were just. 
Very few of the other students were approach- 
ing Albert’s performance. Their landings 
were generally faulty— so faulty, in fact, as 
to endanger the safety of plane and flyer 
alike. 


With the Flying Squadron 73 

It was only a very short time before Drug- 
storeys plane was seen returning. Don Hale 
watched the machine rapidly growing larger 
with breathless interest, fearful that Albert’s 
great flush of enthusiasm might have engen- 
dered so great a confidence in his ability as to 
threaten his efforts with disaster. Exactly at 
the proper moment, however, exactly in the 
proper way, the Bleriot dipped ; and then, ex- 
actly in the proper manner, it struck the 
earth, and, after rolling a certain distance, 
came to a halt. 

‘‘ Well, who said I couldn’t learn to fly ! ” 
shouted Drugstore, hilariously. “ Whoop I 
It’s easier than slopping soda-water over a 
shiny counter. Oh, boy. I’ll soon be able to 
give an eagle lessons ! ” 

It was now another pupil’s turn to take the 
machine, and Albert, releasing the restraining 
straps about his body, jumped stiffly to the 
ground. His gait for several moments be- 
came so noticeably uncertain as to bring forth 
a volley of humorous observations. 

Success has gone to his head ! ” cried one. 

“ To his feet, you mean I ” chuckled a 
second. 


74 


Don Hale 


If that grin of his grows any wider his 
face may be seriously injured ! chirped an- 
other. 

Speech, Drugstore, speech ! '' howled a 
fourth. 

If Albert had been his usual self all this 
attention and good-natured raillery would 
probably have brought a flush to his cheeks. 
At that moment, however, Albert wasn’t quite 
himself, lie forgot to stammer and look em- 
barrassed as he declared importantly : 

Let’s see some of you chaps beat it. Oh, 
boy, just a little while, and I’ll be shooting up 
to hit the blue I ” 

Naturally Albert’s very excellent work 
fired Don Hale with an even greater desire to 
begin his apprenticeship at the fascinating 
game of flying. The sun had never seemed 
to ascend so slowly. Hours and hours must 
pass before he could make his start. Really, 
it was quite a strain on his nerves. 

At nine o’clock work was over for the 
morning, and the students trailed back to the 
barracks, where they were privileged to re- 
main until five. The particular crowd w^hich 
occupied the Hotel d’Amerique found a new- 


With the Flying Squadron 75 

comer awaiting them. He was a very rosy- 
cheeked young chap ; and from his uniform, 
still showing plentiful traces of mud and hard 
usage, it was seen that he, too, had once been 
a soldier in the famous Foreign Legion. 

“ My name is Dan Hagen,*' he announced, 
pleasantly. Fm from Dublin." 

Ah ha, boys, we now have with us Dublin 
Dan I " chortled Roy Mittengale. 

And that was the way in which Dan Hagen 
received a new christening, and one that he 
accepted with a boisterous, rollicking laugh. 

Call me anything ; but don't call me 
down," he said. I say, how's flying to- 
day?" 

As usual, up in the air," laughed Tom 
Dorsey. 

Next to me, who's the newest greeny ? " 

A half dozen or so fingers were pointed 
toward Don Hale ; a half dozen or so voices 
gave the desired information. 

Shake, old man I " exclaimed Dublin 
Dan, extending a big rough hand. ** It's a 
race between us to see which shall be the first 
to feel the caressing touches of the wind-blown 
clouds on our cheeks." 


76 


Don Hale 


I’m on I ” laughed Don. 

“ I say, did you see me land on my last 
trip? ” 

T. Singleton Albert voiced this query. It 
was addressed to no one in particular ; and 
as no one in particular paid the slightest 
tatention to it Drugstore became quite 
peeved. 

“ Jealous, eh? ” he jeered, with unexpected 
bravado. “ Jealous I Oh, boy I but my 
cheeks’ll soon feel the caressing touches of 
these wind-blown clouds. Some joyous ex- 
pression that, eh ? ” 

“ It doesn’t beat yours at the present mo- 
ment,” declared big Sid Marlow, with a hearty 
laugh. 

Don Hale soon discovered that there was 
little military discipline about the camp. 
The students were perfectly free to amuse 
themselves in any way their fancy dictated, 
though Cal Cummings informed him that on 
lecture days absence from the classes was con- 
sidered a pretty serious offense. 

I’d never want to play hooky,” declared 
Don, smilingly. 

The day, wearing on, brought with it plenty 


With the Flying Squadron 77 

of heat ; therefore the shelter of the barracks 
w^as soon sought by the majority. Little com- 
fort could be found inside, however. Swarms 
of flies — ‘‘ of every known size — of every 
known species” — so Dublin Dan declared, 
also used it as a hotel ; and, not being of a 
bashful disposition, they made themselves 
unpleasantly conspicuous. At one o’clock 
the little pests were sole masters of the situa- 
tion, while the crowd joined other crowds in 
the spacious mess-hall. 

During>^the meal T. Singleton Albert, hav- 
ing been heard to remark : I say, did you 
see that last landing I made?” was loudly 
and insistently called upon to make a speech. 
Thereupon, he suddenly grew red in the face, 
and when forced to his feet by strong-arm 
methods stammered and stuttered to such a 
degree that the boys, perceiving that he had 
once more become the old, timid, shy Drug- 
store, mercifully let him alone. 

Following lunch a game of baseball was 
played between two well-matched teams, one 
of them being captained by Victor Gilbert. 
Gilbert’s team won, which Cal Cummings de- 
clared was not strange at all, considering the 


Don Hale 


78 

fact that Victor had at one time been a crack 
player on a college baseball club. 

After the game was over, Don, George and 
Dublin Dan set out for the aviation field to- 
gether. 


CHAPTER VI 


DUBLIN DAN 

Don Hale, standing before a much battered 
and bespattered “ penguin, experienced a de- 
lightful thrill, which ran through his entire 
being. Brimming over with ambition, equally 
full of confidence, he could see nothing ahead 
of him but success. 

The moniteur in whose charge Don and 
several others were placed was a rather youth- 
ful and pleasant-spoken Frenchman. In a 
quick, incisive fashion, he began to give a 
little lecture on the airplane. 

The body is known as the fuselage,^' he 
explained. At the front and just beneath 
the wings, as you see, is the engine and pro- 
peller. This particular type of plane, and in 
fact the majority, are drawn and not pushed 
through the air. The pilot is seated in the 
cockpit immediately behind the motor. Two 
rudders and two ailerons are placed at the 
79 


8o 


Don Hale 


rear of the fuselage. The former, vertical, and 
used for steering the plane horizontally, are 
operated by a cross-piece of wood upon which 
the pilot rests his feet. The ailerons are 
horizontal, connected with a control stick by 
means of wires, and, of course, tilt the plane 
either up or down. The control stick is an 
upright lever in front of the pilot^s seat. 
These are details, however, that you need not 
bother with now. Monsieur Hale, take your 
place in number thirty-five. Monsieur Hagen 
may use number twelve.^' 

Both boys immediately followed instruc- 
tions, and, after each had securely fastened 
the belt designed to prevent an unceremonious 
exit from the plane, the moniteur explained, 
first to one and then the other, the proper 
handling of the engine and rudders. 

** The two most important things to re- 
member,^' he said, are to keep the tail off 
the ground and the engine going at full speed." 

With his nerves at the keenest tension, Don 
Hale waited for the command to start. Out 
of the corner of his eye he could see groups 
standing by the machine, watching him, it 
seemed, in deadly silence. The familiar figure 


With the Flying Squadron 8i 

of George Glenn among them nerved the boy 
to do his utmost. 

“ Ready, sir ? ” asked the mechanician 
standing by the propeller. 

Ready I answered Don. 

Throw on the switch I ” 

With a hand that trembled in spite of all 
his efforts to control it, Don Hale obeyed. 

The mechanician whirled the propeller, and 
in another moment the motor was emitting a 
deafening roar ; and in still another the 
** penguin,^^ as though suddenly endowed with 
life, began a headlong flight over the rather 
uneven ground. 

With all his senses keenly alert, Don Hale 
felt the rushing wind fanning his cheeks ; 
and a sort of wild exhilaration took possession 
of him as the “ penguin,'^ like a runaway 
locomotive, sent the ground speeding behind 
at a rate which fairly dazzled his eyes. 

But why did the penguin wobble and 
stagger in such an extraordinary manner? 

The more desperately Don strove to assert 
his authority over the man-made bird the 
more he seemed to lose his control. Now he 
felt it swinging to the left ; then, a too hasty 


82 


Don Hale 


push with his foot on the steering apparatus 
threatened to send it wildly careening olF to 
the right. Above the roar of the motor he 
could faintly hear the shouts and yells of the 
crowd which he was leaving so far behind. 

The confidence which Don had felt before 
jumping into the machine was given a rude 
and unpleasant jolt ; and, besides this, the 
speed and erratic movements of the pen- 
guin ** were so bewildering as to make the boy 
lose, for a moment, his usual coolness. The 
sudden thought, too, that George Glenn was 
witnessing the almost absurd capering of the 
penguin served only to add to his discom- 
fiture and apprehension. 

In his tremendous eagerness to conquer the 
difficulties, Don made a sudden movement 
with the control stick, lifting the tail high 
off the ground, and at the same time he added 
to his mistake by pushing the rudder too far 
around. The result was almost terrifying. 
The ‘‘ bird,^^ as though roused to sudden fury 
by his action, began to whirl around and 
around, its speed seeming to increase with 
each passing second. 

Dazed and dizzy the pilot had just suffi- 


With the Flying Squadron 83 

cient presence of mind left to shut off the 
power. But the ** penguin had already be- 
gun to somersault. 

Don Hale experienced a chilling and sick- 
ening fear. So suddenly that he could 
scarcely realize what had happened, the air- 
plane tumbled over. He heard the sound of 
breaking supports and felt the impact of a 
blow. Then he found himself pinned to the 
ground amidst a mass of wreckage. 

Several seconds elapsed before he could 
think coherently enough to decide that be- 
yond a few bruises and scratches he had not 
been injured. And, although the ** penguin 
was as motionless as though it had never 
made a movement in the whole of its check- 
ered career, the ground still seemed to be 
whirling rapidly before his eyes. But the diz- 
ziness, the pains and aches he was experienc- 
ing were as nothing compared to his disillu- 
sionment. He had fully expected to make a 
grand and triumphal trip straight across the 
flying piste to the flag which marked the end 
of the course and to hear the plaudits of 
George, the praise of the moniteur and the 
comments of the admiring crowd. And here 


Don Hale 


84 

he was — in an undignified heap, with the 
breath almost knocked out of his body, and 
responsible for the ending of the tempestuous 
career of what had been but a few moments 
before a staunch and sturdy penguin/^ 

Oh yes, he must have surprised his chum 
George Glenn — of that there couldn^t be the 
slightest doubt ! 

As Don began painfully to extricate him- 
self, with grim forebodings of what the conse- 
quences of the disaster might be, he became 
conscious of the fact that from almost every 
point people were running in his direction. 
He felt the hot blood rushing to his face ; he 
experienced a feeling, too, somewhat akin to 
anger — for his sharp ears had caught what 
sounded suspiciously like bursts of hilarious 
laughter. 

And, to add to the boy^s discomfiture, he 
caught sight of a penguin, wobbling and 
shaking like a ship in a raging sea, approach- 
ing. He had one brief, instantaneous glimpse 
of a tremendously grinning face — that of 
Dublin Dan's — as the machine lurched swiftly 
past. A short time later the foremost of the 
crowd bore down upon him. 


With the Flying Squadron 85 

** Are you hurt, Don ? Are you hurt ? 
cried George Glenn, breathlessly. 

“ No — no I ” jerked out Don. 

And, as though these words were a signal 
for a jollification to begin, roars of laughter 
and howls of merriment broke loose on every 
side. The students were not averse, it seemed, 
to enjoying the humor of the situation. 

** We have seen the human spinning-top I ** 
guffawed one. 

** What a wonderful merry-go-round 1 ” 
gurgled another. Sixty miles an hour with- 
out budging an inch I 

Say, boy, wasnT that enough to make you 
remember it ? chirped a third. 

** You were chasing your tail so fast you 
nearly caught up with it,*' chimed in a fourth. 

At any rate, it’s certainly a case for the 
Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to 
Birds, even though it was a tough old 
rooster.” 

Now Don Hale, quite unsteady on his feet, 
having a jumping throb in his forehead, and 
being, besides, in a very disgusted state of 
mind, could not, of course, enter into the 
spirit of jollification, yet, nevertheless, by a 


86 


Don Hale 


strong effort of the will, he managed to con- 
trol his tongue and temper. 

I'm glad you enjoyed the impromptu per- 
formance, boys," he said, pleasantly. ** I 
don’t believe I’ll ever be able to equal it again. 
Ah ’’ 

This ** ah I ’’ uttered with the most peculiar 
intonation, was brought from his lips by the 
mere fact of his eyes having caught those of 
the moniteur. 

But instead of the angry, steely expression 
he had expected to see the boy was amazed to 
observe that the Frenchman appeared as un- 
concerned as though the incident was of the 
most trivial character. Yet even this did not 
take away the fear that he was in for a neat 
little ** bawling out." 

Monsieur Hale, one sometimes learns 
more by his mistakes than by his triumphs," 
were the words he heard, however. The in- 
structor spoke in genial tones. Let us hope 
that it will be true in this case I Come I — 
now for another trial I ’’ 

Like a flash, Don Hale’s mood was changed ; 
his usual buoyancy reasserted itself, and he 
was now as well able to laugh over his ad- 


With the Flying Squadron 87 

venture as any of the others. He also had 
very grateful feelings toward the moniteur for 
his forbearance. 

Dublin Dan's ahead in the race so far ! 
he exclaimed, laughingly, to his chum George 
Glenn. 

“ Never mind I The day isn't over yet,” 
said George, with a smile. 

Full of ardor, full of determination to re- 
trieve himself, the tl^ve pilot took the lead in 
marching back to the starting point. 

There were always two things on the 
practice field which well testified to the 
hazardous nature of the work ; a fleet of extra 
penguins ” and an ambulance. One of the 
former was very quickly rolled into place by 
the assistants. And Don, his ears assailed by a 
multitude of suggestions and words of advice, 
climbed at once to his seat. 

By this time numerous other penguins,” 
at widely separated points, were traveling 
over the fleld. Number twelve, Dan's ma- 
chine, could actually be seen racing toward 
them on the home stretch ; and in an in- 
credibly short space of time the dull gray 
wings loomed up strongly against the turf. 


88 


Don Hale 




Following a few extraordinary movements, 
the machine stopped abruptly, and from the 
occupant of the pilot^s seat there immediately 
came a series of loud and boisterous hurrahs. 

Maybe I didn't have a bully trip I " 
he shouted. “ Thought at first, though, I 
couldn't stop the engine, and that I’d have to 
go clean around the whole earth and come 
back again. But say, old stay-iii-one-place, I 
can almost feel, even now, the caressing 
touches of those wind-blown clouds on my 
cheeks." 

“ Well, that's a great deal better than feel- 
ing the caresses of the hard earth, as I did a 
few moments ago," laughed Don. 

AlleZy allez ! En route I " ^ commanded 
the moniteur. 

Don, experiencing the same measure of 
confidence he had had before, though it was 
now tempered by a much greater respect for 
the difficulties of the task, waited expectantly. 

“ Now ! " he breathed. 

The blades were revolving ; the engine 
began its deafening roar — and, once more, 
Don was fiying over the turf as though hurled 

’ “ Go — OD your way ! ” 


With the Flying Squadron 89 

from the mouth of a catapult. The new 
pilot had learned his lesson well. He realized 
that a firm though delicate movement of the 
controls is necessary to assure safety and 
success. 

Faster, still faster, the “ penguin " tore 
ahead ; and though its movements were far 
from being smooth it kept to a comparatively 
straight course, only occasionally displaying 
an alarming tendency to turn over on its 
face. 

Almost breathless from the effects of the 
violent wind which continually beat against 
his face, and as jubilant as a few moments be- 
fore he had been in despair, Don Hale kept 
his eyes fixed intently on the flag ahead ; and 
there grew in him a curious feeling that he 
was being carried along by some wild, unruly 
runaway. One moment the flag had appeared 
dim and small in the distance ; the next it 
rose large and sharply defined. 

The young pilot switched off the tower, the 
** penguin began to diminish speed and after 
running many yards beyond the goal stopped 
its headlong flight. 

That was certainly a proud moment to the 


90 


Don Hale 


new candidate. The stain of his former de- 
feat was now entirely wiped away. He was 
convinced that, after all, he had made an 
auspicious beginning. 

Much good I ” exclaimed one of the 
Annamites, who was stationed in the field to 
turn the machines around. One grand 
fly I 

** Thanks I laughed Don. ** And V\l do 
better next time.” 

He was, however, to have his confidence a 
little shaken on the return trip ; for the 
“ bird,” apparently without any reason at all, 
showed an almost irresistible tendency to fly 
off at a tangent, first in one direction and 
then another. And when this was finally • 
overcome it seemed to display an equally 
ardent desire again to bury its nose in the 
turf. Several times Don had alarming visions 
of another inglorious smash. 

It was, therefore, with the greatest feelings 
of relief that he again brought the machine to 
a stop. 

And before this had been accomplished he 
heard George Glenn shout : 

” Great — great I Well done, old chap 1 ** 


With the Flying Squadron 91 

** Surprised, George ? asked Don, gleefully, 
when he could catch his breath. 

No ; there are never any surprises on an 
aviation field,*' laughingly rejoined the other. 

“ Vous avez fait deprogres, mon ami” ^ com- 
mended the moniteur. Better take a few 
moments* rest before starting in again.** 

Don Hale thought so, too. Naturally, he 
hadn't quite recovered from the effects of his 
exhilarating experience. His pulse was beat- 
ing a trifle hard, and, unaccustomed to the 
rushing wind which had beaten so relentlessly 
upon him, there still remained some of its 
effects. 

** I'm in a better position now to appreciate 
the feelings of Drugstore," laughed Don to 
a little knot gathered about him. Honestly, 
I think flying must be the greatest sport in 
the world." 

" It's certainly the highest," chirped Tom 
Dorsey. 

" You've got the right idea, son," chimed in 
Gene Shannon. Treat the old birds gently, 
and you'll soon be in a position to treat the 
Boches rough." 

* “You have made progress, my frieod,’^ 


92 


Don Hale 


For a while Don was content to watch the 
antics of the penguins/' which were now 
swarming over the field in great numbers, 
and, as on every previous occasion, he found 
plenty of thrills in the sight — collisions nar- 
rowly averted and machines performing the 
“ chevaux de hois," as the French say, which, 
freely translated, means acting like a merry- 
go-round. 

Some time later on he was off in the air- 
plane again, and shot forth and back across the 
field a number of times, with generally fair 
success, before taking another welcome rest. 

Equally pleased over the afternoon’s work 
was Dublin Dan ; and he proclaimed his satis- 
faction in a loud and boisterous manner. 

“ You won’t find me encouraging the scrap 
heap industry,” he chuckled. “ I’m going to 
tear right through this course and hit the 
next before I’m many days older.” 

Well, so long as you don’t hit me I’m sat- 
isfied,” said Don, with a laugh. 

'' Never mind. Don’t crow too soon,” in- 
terjected the pessimistic Ben Holt. You 
chaps are a long way from the sky yet. It’s 
pretty blue up there ; and I’ve seen a few fel- 


With the Flying Squadron 93 

lows just as blue when they couldn^t make 
it:’ 

** I’ll see red if I don’t make it,” chirped 
Dan. 

A few minutes later Dublin Dan was taxi- 
ing across the field, while Don leisurely pre- 
pared to follow his example — in fact, so lei- 
surely that it was not until number twelve 
was seen returning that he opened the throt- 
tle and sent the penguin ” at full speed 
ahead. 

Ever mindful of the danger of collision, 
the boy was particularly careful to give the 
oncoming machine plenty of room, for, owing 
to the tremendously high rate of speed at 
which they were traveling, it would be only a 
few moments before the machines were abreast 
of one another. 

Don Hale noticed that number twelve had 
suddenly begun to act in the most wildly er- 
ratic manner — so much so, indeed, as to sug- 
gest that the pilot must have gone all to 
pieces. 

What was the matter ? How did it happen 
that the unusually promising pupil should 
have lost control of his machine? 


94 


Don Hale 


And while these thoughts were flashing 
through his mind he suddenly became filled 
with a chilling sense of dismay and fear ; for 
number twelve had deviated from its course 
and was bearing down upon him in a zigzag- 
ging line with almost the speed of a lightning 
express. 


CHAPTER VII 


THE VRILLE 

Uttering a half-inarticulate cry, the pilot 
of number thirty-five made a supreme effort 
to avert a catastrophe. 

But, even as he did so, he realized, with a 
sickening sensation of terror, that it would be 
futile — that nothing he could do would be of 
the slightest avail. With eyes staring wildly, 
he had a quick vision of number twelve, as 
though its sole purpose on earth was to run 
him down, fairly hurling itself upon him. 

Don Hale gave a loud yell, though the roar 
of the motor drowned the sound. In a wild 
panic, he attempted to rise. But the restrain- 
ing strap jerked him back to his seat. Then 
he [^saw the frightened face of Dublin Dan 
right before his eyes. 

And that was the last thing they took in 
for a moment. He found himself jerked high 
in the air, then hurled violently forward. 

95 


Don Hale 


96 

The next instant his head struck the ground 
with heavy force. A light seemed to flash be- 
fore his eyes, and, with the dull consciousness 
that was still left to him, he heard supports, 
struts and planes of both machines smashing 
under the heavy blow. Blackness followed. 

And then came a moment when he was 
neither quite conscious of where he was or 
what had happened. And when he presently 
opened his eyes it was with the feelings of one 
who has just awakened from a troubled, un- 
easy slumber. The sound of excited voices 
was ringing in his ears ; he heard George 
Glenn loudly calling his name, but he neither 
answered nor stirred. 

The latter was, of course, impossible. He 
was pinned to the earth on every side by the 
d6bris of the “ penguin.** 

As the boy*s faculties began to reassert 
themselves a shudder ran through his frame, 
and, for the first time, he became conscious of 
the fact that every joint, every portion of his 
body was racked with shooting pains. Had 
he been seriously injured? In his apprehen- 
sion, he began to aid the rescuers in their 
efforts to release both him and Dublin Dan. 


With the Flying Squadron 97 

The vigorous workers soon completed their 
task, and Don felt strong arms on either side 
dragging him to his feet. Some one was feel- 
ing his pulse ; some one was feeling his joints ; 
and some one laid a hand across his brow. 

“ Badly shaken up ; suffering from shock ; 
not much injured, though,'' he heard a voice 
exclaim. 

An instant before Don Hale's vision had 
seemed blurred — his consciousness strangely 
dulled, but, somehow or other, the words 

suffering from shock " seemed to revive him 
in an astonishing degree. 

“ ‘ Suffering from shock I ' Well, who 
wouldn't be? " he blurted out, almost angrily. 
He gently pushed aside the supporting hands. 
** I reckon, fellows, I don't need any props 
to support me. But say, how is Dublin 
Dan?" 

The young Irishman, surrounded by a 
crowd, was lying in a half-reclining position 
upon the turf, his usually florid face pale and 
drawn. But as Don's query reached his ears 
he began to struggle up. It was a mighty 
hard effort, however, bringing many an ex- 
clamation of pain from his lips. 


98 


Don Hale 


Dublin Dan^s all right I ’’ he exclaimed, 
in a voice quite unlike his own. “ But don’t 
let me hear any one say I’m suffering from 
shock, or I’ll paste ’em. Hey, boy, why 
didn’t you get out of my way ? ” 

A comet couldn’t have gotten out of 
your way,” retorted Don, smiling faintly. 
** But why did you try to butt me off the 
earth ? ” 

“ I didn’t do it. It was the * penguin,’ ” 
said Dan. “ I think I must have hurt the 
old bird’s feelings by running over a bad 
place in the ground ; or else it got tired of 
life and decided to quit. And that’s where 
it isn’t like the Hagens. What train are you 
going home on to-night? ” 

I’ll have to get a few more caressing 
touches from the earth before I do that,” said 
Don. 

The boy was feeling very shaky ; his 
strength seemed to have so far deserted him 
that it was with difficulty that he managed to 
stand erect. The pains and aches he was 
experiencing were so great as to still make 
him wonder if, after all, he had not sustained 
some injury which might keep him out of the 


With the Flying Squadron 99 

game for days — that was the only thought 
bothering him now. Yet he was deeply thank- 
ful that the terrific smash-up had had no 
worse consequences. 

Although it was a very important matter 
to the two principals, the incident was so 
trivial in the eyes of the older students of the 
flying field that as soon as it was discovered 
that neither of the boys was seriously injured 
they began to retrace their steps. 

The moniteur rather sternly demanded from 
Dan Hagen an explanation of the cause of the 
mishap. 

“ Tell him there isn^t any explanation,'^ said 
Dan, when Don had translated the instructor's 
remarks. It just happened — that's all. I 
reckon one of the great joys in this game is 
that it keeps a chap so perpetually thankful 
that he's still alive that it makes up for every- 
thing else. Say, Don, where do you feel the 
worst?" 

All over," replied Don. 

‘‘Hadn't both of you better get back to the 
barracks?" asked George Glenn, solicitously. 

Don almost indignantly declined the sug- 
gestion. 


lOO 


Don Hale 


No, indeed ! he declared. I^m going 
to hang around here and watch the other 
smash-ups.” 

“ And I'm not suffering from shock so much 
that I can't do the same,” said Dan, with a 
grin. 

Both Don and Dan soon found, however, 
that they had been too much shaken up to 
enter very thoroughly into the spirit of the 
occasion. Nevertheless, they were of that 
age when the very idea of retiring from the 
field would have seemed like a deplorable sur- 
render ; so they remained until the majority 
of the pilots began their homeward march. 

The boys were glad indeed to reach the 
Hotel d'Amerique. They removed the dirt 
and dust from their clothing and enjoyed a 
refreshing wash ; and their feelings were then 
so far improved that each readily agreed to 
accompany the crowd, after supper, to Etain- 
ville and the club. 

Thus the end of Don's second day was 
passed very much as the first. They found 
Pdre Goubain, as usual, bubbling over with 
good-nature, and listened to the bits of phi- 
losophy which he expounded and to his tales 


101 


With the Flying Squadron 

of spies with the same interest as on the night 
before. 

But there was something else which made 
their visit to the Caf6 Rochambeau far more 
memorable than they had expected. While 
the rattle of tongues was in progress every one 
became aware of the fact that something was 
going on in the village street. The air was 
filled with the sounds of wheels jarring and 
rumbling over the cobbled highway, the 
steady tramping of horses' hoofs and the 
voices of men. 

Don and George were the first to rush out- 
side. And what they saw gave them a thrill 
of pleasure and of exultation. 

Yes, yes I The Yanks were not only com- 
ing but they had come. Actually I — an 
American battery was making its way over 
the lone street toward the front. 

It was certainly a warlike scene over which 
the magic rays of the brilliant moon were 
playing. At the head of the procession rode 
the captain, mounted on a big bay horse. 
Close behind him followed the battery stand- 
ard bearer carrying the red guidon, which 
lazily swayed to and fro. Silent and grim. 


102 


Don Hale 


the two horsemen suggested knights of old 
going forth to battle. Gun carriages and 
caissons drawn by long teams of mettlesome 
horses rattled and banged steadily past. 

Now and again glinting lights flashed from 
horses’ trappings, or from the sinister, wicked- 
looking guns. 

Often, from the wooden-shoed inhabitants 
of the village — men, women and children, 
who had flocked out into the street to view 
the interesting spectacle, there came the cries 
of, ‘‘ Vive I’Ainerique I ” And to these salu- 
tations offlcers, cannoneers and postilion 
drivers sometimes responded with a “ Vive la 
France I ” 

What a glorious sight I ” exclaimed P^re 
Goubain, who, having managed to lift his 
ponderous frame from the rocking-chair, had 
joined the Americans outside. 

“ I reckon the Germans might as well fire 
all their spies and give them respectable 
jobs — eh, P^re Goubain?” laughed Peur 
Jamais. 

The old innkeeper shook his head. 

** As long as there are Germans there will 
be spies,” he said, solemnly. 


With the Flying Squadron 103 

The crowd waited outside until the last 
gun carriage had become lost to view and only 
the faint sound of horses' hoofs and grinding 
wheels came over the silent air. 

Then, as the hour was getting late, the boys 
bade good-bye to Pdre Goubain and began 
their tramp toward the barracks. 

Arriving at the aviation field, the students 
witnessed a spectacle which, to Don and Dub- 
lin Dan at least, possessed a singular interest 
and novelty. It was a dance executed by 
Annamites and dark-skinned Arabian Zouaves 
before several huge bonfires built in front of 
their quarters. With the firelight playing 
over the forms of the fantastically-moving 
dancers and the weird, monotonous notes of 
the native music, the scene was suggestive of 
some far-off, uncivilized quarter of the globe. 

‘'Those chaps are certainly working hard 
for their fun," remarked Dan Hagen. 

“Wait till you see them get to fighting, 
which they sometimes do," laughed Cal Cum- 
mings. 

“ Excuse me the night the scrap comes ofi*," 
chirped Don. “ A little of that sort of thing 
is much too much." 


104 Don Hale 

** Like our smash-up to-day 1 '' chuckled 
Dublin Dan. 

All the boys were pretty tired when they 
reached the barracks ; for training in the 
flying school often produces a strain on the 
nerves more fatiguing than hard work. No 
time, therefore, was lost in turning in. 

But Don Hale passed a most uncomfortable 
and restless night. The pains and aches, 
partially forgotten while in the midst of lively 
scenes, now became violent enough to prevent 
the boy from falling into the slumber which 
nature craved — in fact he had not slept at all 
when, after what seemed to be an inter- 
minable length of time, the clear, musical 
notes of the bugle, sounding the reveille, 
broke in upon his ears. 

It was a relief. But, at the same time, Don, 
blinking-eyed and yawning, scarcely felt in 
the mood to enjoy the work as he had done 
on the day before. Out in the open air, how- 
ever, he soon felt more like himself, and his 
natural enthusiasm soon overcame all bodily 
fatigue. 

The new 6l^ve imagined that he had con- 
quered the “ penguin,’' but the result of the 


With the Flying Squadron 105 

day^s performance, to his great surprise, and 
equally great disgust, showed him that this 
was merely an illusion. Both he and Dublin 
Dan figured in several mishaps, the most 
serious of which caused Dan’s “ penguin ” to 
be towed to the repair shop. Both boys, too, 
received a varied assortment of bruises. And 
at night, when summing up the result of the 
work, Don grimly declared that it certainly 
was the end of an imperfect day. 

A week passed, and then another, with Don 
and Dan still struggling to obtain a complete 
mastery over the unruly “ birds.” There were 
several interruptions in the work due to 
thunder-storms. And after the artillery of 
the clouds had ceased the rain continued for 
hours. On such occasions the students 
amused themselves by getting up impromptu 
concerts ; and sometimes, while the wind and 
rain beat relentlessly against the Hotel 
d’Amerique, the notes of such pleasing com- 
positions as Schumann’s Traumerei,” Schu- 
bert’s '‘Am Meer” and Mendelssohn’s “Spring 
Song,” played on the piano by a former mo- 
tion picture artist, mingled with the ominous 
blasts outside. 


Don Hale 


io6 

On certain days lectures were given ; the 
students were taught the theories of aeronau- 
tics and the design and construction of various 
types of flying machines. They were obliged, 
too, to take motors apart and put them to- 
gether again. Then, there were courses in 
map reading — a very important subject in- 
deed ; for the aviators must learn to keep 
track of their aerial travels by such means. 

About the middle of the third week Don 
and Dan were delighted to be informed by 
the instructor that their progress had been 
sufficient to entitle them to enter the second 
class. This did not mean that they were to 
be allowed to fly. It did mean, however, that 
they became pilots of real airplanes, though it 
was not possible to turn on sufficient power 
for the motors to take the machine off the 
ground. 

The boys found the sensation very different 
from that experienced while trying to tame 
the penguins.’^ There was a delightful 
lightness and buoyancy about these mono- 
planes, as they skimmed over the ground, 
exhilarating in the highest degree. They 
continually seemed about to defy the limita- 


With the Flying Squadron 107 

tioua set upon them and leave the terrestrial 
globe for the firmament above. 

And during all the time that Don and 
Dan were wrestling with the new problems 
T. Singleton Albert, the former drugstore 
clerk of Syracuse, was making the most 
astonishing progress. Many in the begin- 
ning had been accustomed to laugh at the 
thought of the pale, anaemic-looking chap 
ever attaining his ambition of becoming an 
airman, but, as Peur Jamais put it, he was 

leaving every one of them far behind.'' 

One evening, when the sun had long dis- 
appeared beneath the horizon and the ad- 
vance-guards of approaching dusk were draw- 
ing a veil over the distance and little by little 
driving the color from objects near at hand, 
a crowd of boys of the first and second 
classes journeyed to the third flying field to 
watch the machines circling around in the 
sky. 

Won't I be glad when I get to the real 
work I " sighed Don. 

Dave Cornwells, who was standing by, re- 
marked : 

“Boys, do you see that highest machine? 


io8 


Don Hale 


Well, the pilot is a certain daring young 
aviator named T. Singleton Albert.” 

“ Goodness gracious I ” exclaimed Dan 
Hagen. Why, that chap is certainly a 
bird I ” 

‘‘ You’ve said something,” drawled Roy 
Mittengale. “ And he’ll never be satisfied 
until he gets so high that the earth looks like 
a rubber bail to him.” 

As the shadows slowly deepened over the 
earth the flyers, one by one, returned to the 
grande 'piste. 

There still remained one airplane high 
aloft — so insignificant in the vast field of 
graying sky that it seemed to lose all resem- 
blance to a flying machine and become but a 
tiny, shapeless speck, so faint at times that 
the naked eye could no longer follow its 
varied evolutions. And every one on the 
grande piste seemed to know to whom that 
machine belonged — it was Albert’s. 

My, shan’t I be glad when I get into his 
class I ” commented Don Hale, whose face was 
turned toward the sky. 

And then, all of a sudden, he gave voice to 
a loud exclamation. Others did the same ; 


With the Flying Squadron 109 

for the faint speck in the sky had suddenly 
begun to behave in the most extraordinary 
fashion. First it dove, then soared upward 
again, not in the orderly fashion which one 
might expect of a machine piloted by a skilled 
aviator, but in a way which suggested that 
something was amiss. 

And this impression was strengthened a 
few moments later when the machine began 
to volplane at terrific speed, at the same time 
swinging around and around as though on a 
pivot. 

The vrille ! ^ The vrille I ’’ came from 
dozens of excited students. 

The vrille ! echoed Don Hale, huskily. 


^ “ Vrille ” — French for “falling leaf/ 


CHAPTER VIII 


THE HERO 

The boy had heard about the '' vrille/' and 
he knew that it is one of the most difficult 
evolutions an airman can perform, and that it 
had sent many to their death. 

For a few moments of tense and awe- 
stricken silence the onlookers kept their gaze 
fixed with agonized intentness upon the ob- 
ject which, like a wounded bird, was tumbling 
through space. 

A sickening sensation of horror and despair 
gripped the spectators. The airplane and its 
pilot seemed doomed to utter annihilation. 

Pale, trembling with apprehension, his 
throat dry and husky, Don Hale could not 
keep his eyes away from the spectacle of that 
frightful fall. He stood as motionless as 
though fastened to the turf by means of in- 
visible chains. 

Nearer and nearer came the still-revolving 

no 


Ill 


With the Flying Squadron 

plane. Now the machine was so clearly sil- 
houetted against the sky that even the sup- 
ports could be faintly distinguished. 

Don had seen many a terrible sight during 
his stay in the war zone, but perhaps none 
had ever affected him so acutely as this. He 
could not help picturing in his mind the 
awful fate of poor Drugstore. 

Not a voice — not an exclamation was heard. 
That most awesome silence which sometimes 
holds sway over spectators when they are 
witnesses to a catastrophe which they are 
powerless to avert had settled upon the 
crowd. 

Faces were beginning to be turned aside, 
and though Don Hale felt an almost irresist- 
ible impulse to do the same, an impulse still 
stronger kept his wide, staring eyes fixed upon 
the airplane. 

But a few moments more, and the tragedy 
would be over. His nerves were quivering 
violently. The strain of those few terrible 
seconds was almost too hard to bear. 

And then, just as he was preparing to steel 
himself for the sound of a sickening crash — 
for the sight of a machine, smashed and bat- 


112 


Don Flale 


tered to pieces, bursting into flames — a wild, 
half-stifled cry escaped his lips. 

What was the reason ? 

Because of an almost unbelievable, impossi- 
ble happening. 

The airplane had suddenly stopped its 
whirling evolutions, and was soaring majestic- 
ally through the air not a hundred feet above 
their heads. Its engine had started and was 
sending a deep droning hum through the air. 

It took a few seconds for the strange and 
oppressive silence to be broken. It was as 
though the enthralled witnesses of the scene 
could not at first comprehend the evidences of 
their vision. Then frantic shouts and wild 
cheers rang forth over and over again. 

Actually I — Drugstore was safe. What 
did it mean ? Had he become such a master 
aviator that he had been simply giving an ex- 
hibition of his skill ? It looked that way. 

In their joy, the students slapped each 
other on the shoulder and yelled themselves 
hoarse. 

Around and around the j)iste flew the air- 
plane, and it was not until a certain calmness 
had been restored among the students that it 


With the Flying Squadron 113 

volplaned swiftly toward the earth, and, as 
easily as a bird alighting, struck the ground 
and presently came to a halt. 

And the moment it had done so an excited 
crowd began rushing toward it from different 
parts of the field. 

No conquering hero was ever acclaimed 
with greater fervor — with greater enthusiasm 
than T. Singleton Albert. Hands were thrust 
forward to shake that of the returned 
aviator. 

The moniteurs praised and chided him at 
the same time. It was almost unbelievable, 
one of them declared, that a student with so 
little experience should have possessed suffi- 
cient courage to execute such a dangerous and 
daring maneuver. 

And throughout it all Albert remained 
quite silent. The demonstration, indeed, 
seemed to embarrass him — to bring his 
natural modesty and reserve all the more to 
the front. 

“ Simply splendid, T. Singleton I cried 
Don, enthusiastically. ** Only, I wish to 
goodness you had notified us beforehand 
what was coming off. Honestly, my nerves 


114 


Don Hale 


are jumping like a jack-in-the-box. But 
didn't the vrille make you dizzy ? " 

** Yes," admitted Drugstore — so much 
so that just now I wouldn’t be able to look in 
a mirror and see myself twice in the same 
place." 

“ I don’t think you’ll have any occasion to 
fear Captain Baron Von Richtofen and hie 
Red Squadron of Death," chuckled Marlow. 
“ If they ever get after you, son, just pull off 
the same trick, and it’ll mean a safe get- 
away." 

Albert clambered out of the machine, and, 
as though wishing to escape further attention, 
hurried rather unsteadily toward a camion 
standing by the side of the field. But such a 
sensational and unexpected event was not to 
be dismissed in so unceremonious a fashion. 
All the way to the waiting vehicle the former 
soda-water dispenser was obliged to listen to 
enthusiastic comments and reply to numerous 
queries. 

And so it continued all the way to the 
Hotel d’Amerique, and even at the supper 
table later on. 

Then it was that Sid Marlow started an- 


With the Flying Squadron 115 

other demonstration, by exclaiming, in his 
big, booming voice : 

‘‘ Sometimes a chap has no right to be 
modest. I’ve traveled over some pretty rough 
trails, fellows, and early discovered that mod- 
esty is one of the biggest stumbling blocks in 
the path of success. That’s the reason I 
haven’t any.” 

'' We’ve noticed it,” chirped Ro}^ Mitten- 
gale. 

You’ll notice it some more, too, when I 
equal Albert’s record. Now, boys, I call upon 
our young friend for a speech. Who seconds 
the motion ? ” 

Everybody did, and with an enthusiasm 
which brought warm flushes to the face of the 
embarrassed Albert. 

He tried to resist, too, when those nearest 
at hand forced him to his feet. This time, 
however, the crowd was determined. They 
brushed aside the boy’s protestations, and 
presently Drugstore, finding that there was 
absolutely no chance to escape the trying 
ordeal, began to make a few stammering re- 
marks. 

For a moment the eyes of all in the room 


ii6 


Don Hale 


fixed intently upon him threatened to stop 
altogether his halting words. And then, sud- 
denly, to the surprise of all, he collected his 
scattered wits and pulled himself together. 
It was as if a new spirit had entered into him. 
The flush left his cheeks and the tremolo in 
his voice was replaced by a firm and even tone. 

But the first words he uttered when this 
changed condition had taken possession of 
him fairly astounded his hearers. 

“ Boys, I’m through with flying forever.’’ 

Through with flying forever 1 ” cried Don. 

Then came an almost riotous demand for 
explanations. The boys weren’t going to 
stand for any joshing.” But, as cool and 
collected as before he had been the reverse, 
Albert voiced his declaration a second time. 

“ True as I’m standing here, boys, I mean 
it,” he declared. I’m no hero. That wasn’t 
a joy ride to show what I could do in the way 
of handling the plane — oh, no I It was nearer 
to being a real tragedy. And I’m through 
with the game for all time.” 

Drugstore’s assertions created another sen- 
sation. A babel of tongues prevented his 
next words from being heard. 


With the Flying Squadron 117 

Big Sid Marlow quickly restored silence. 

Now tell us all about it, Albert,’^ he com- 
manded. 

It’s a mighty short story,” replied Drug- 
store. I made up my mind to do the vrille, 
but somehow or other, at the very last mo- 
ment, the idea of actually starting it had such 
an effect upon my nerves that I decided to 
leave it for another time. Even the thought, 
high up there in the air, was enough to send 
cold chills creeping through me and make me 
perform some bungling movements with the 
controls. Before I could regain the mastery 
over myself, almost before I could realize it, 
my plane was thrown into the vrille and I 
was shooting through space, with the machine 
absolutely out of control.” Albertis voice 
faltered. An intense agitation seemed to grip 
him. It was terrible — frightful I ” He al- 
most gasped. ** Never had I the least expec- 
tation of coming through it alive. Never 
shall I forget those terrifying moments — the 
agony I suffered. That one experience, fel- 
lows, has taken away all the fascination of the 
game. Call it a yellow streak if you want ; 
call it a case of downright cowardice — I can’t 


ii8 Don Hale 

help that. I^m going to quit the flying school 
for good.” 

And having uttered these words with a 
conviction which permitted no one to doubt 
his absolute sincerity, T. Singleton Albert 
abruptly turned away and made for the door. 

“ Well,” exclaimed Don Hale, that chap 
may not think he’s a hero, but, all the same, 
I believe he is.” 

And to this sentiment every one heartily 
agreed. 


CHAPTER IX 


THE ACE 

Many of the students confidently believed 
that by the time another day had rolled 
around Albert would have so far recovered 
from the effects of his thrilling experience as 
to reconsider his determination. This, how- 
ever, was not the case. 

A few privately expressed the opinion that 
Drugstore was a quitter, but, somehow or 
other, the boy^s frank avowal had raised him 
in the opinion of the majority, who sincerely 
regretted that so promising a pupil should be 
lost to the school. 

During the late afternoon another American 
arrived. Of course this was not a very impor- 
tant event. Students were always going and 
coming, some leaving for the Ecole de Perfec- 
tionmenV others being sent back to their regi- 


* School for advanced students. 
119 


120 


Don Hale 


ments when it was found that they were not 
fitted by nature to become successful airmen. 

But a little incident in connection with the 
appearance of the newcomer profoundly in- 
terested those of an observant or inquisitive 
nature. It was a rather dramatic meeting be- 
tween him and the former college student, 
Victor Gilbert. 

The latter, who was now in the third class 
and gave promise of being one of the best of 
the Uhve pilots, upon entering the room and 
coming face to face with the other halted as 
though almost petrified with astonishment, 
and exclaimed : 

Hello ! You here, Jason Hamlin I 

Whereupon the other answered, in a tone 
which showed no trace of friendliness : 

“ Yes, I am here, Gilbert. And one of the 
reasons I am here is because you are here. 
Does that disturb you ? ” 

Not enough for me to notice it,^’ returned 
Victor Gilbert, coolly. 

Flying is a dangerous game, eh ? 

There are other games just as danger- 
ous.’' 

At this remark Jason Hamlin’s face flushed 



r ^ 



121 


With the Flying Squadron 

perceptibly ; his fingers twitched ; a steely 
glare which plainly told of a spirit moved to 
anger came into his eyes. 

But the interesting colloquy ended there. 

“ I say, wasn't that mighty curious about 
Gilbert and Hamlin?" exclaimed Bobby 
Dunlap, otherwise Peur Jamais, to Don 
Hale, after the evening meal was over. '' I 
wonder what Gilbert meant by saying : ‘ There 
are other games just as dangerous.' " 

It's too much of a riddle for me." 

I tried to pump this Jason person a little," 
declared Peur Jamais, but he was as dry 
as an old well gone out of business. Strikes 
me there's a little mystery which I'll have to 
unravel." 

“ I'll let you have all the fun of the un- 
raveling," chortled Don. ** Go to it, Mr. 
Sherlock Holmes the second." 

All right I " chirped Bobby. ** I hope I 
shan't get a punch in the eye while I’m 
sherlocking. Our friend Jason looks as 
though he wouldn't have much trouble in 
finding his temper." 

“ Or losing it," said Don, with a laugh. 

But say, Bobby, I got a letter to-day from 


122 Don Hale 

George Glenn. And what do you think he’s 
seen ? ” 

Break it to me gently.” 

Thereupon Don Hale drew from his pocket 
the missive, and began to read : 

“ ‘ To-day I had a mighty exciting experi- 
ence. It was during my two hours’ patrol 
over the enemy’s line, and the Archies ” 
were following my plane thick and fast.’ ” 

“ The * Archies ’ I What does he mean by 
* Archies ’ ? ” interrupted Bobby. 

It’s a name the flying fighters have 
given to the anti-aircraft guns,” replied Don. 
“ Though I reckon no one knows exactly the 
reason why.” 

He resumed : 

” ' Don, I must confess that this afternoon 
I got a pretty big scare. I was just about to 
return to the encampment of the squadron 
when I saw something that made my pulse 
throb as it hasn’t throbbed even when I was 
engaged in a duel in the air. It was the sight 
of two crimson planes swooping down upon 
me from above — a part of Captain Baron Von 
Richtofen’s Red Squadron ! ’ ” 

Great Caesar’s bald-headed nanny-goat 1 ” 


With the Flying Squadron 123 

ejaculated Bobby. “ Where's my suit-case ? 
I think rii go home with Drugstore." 

“ I shouldn't blame you," laughed Don. 

“ * By the time I made this startling dis- 
covery the foremost had opened fire with his 
machine gun. And the first thing I knew 
bullets were ripping through my plane.' " 

“ I don't think I'll wait for my suit- 
case, after all I " exclaimed Peur Jamais. 
‘‘Whew! What did George do to them for 
that?" 

'‘The next chapter is as follows," said 
Don : 

" ' I threw my plane into the vrille, and the 
next shots sped over my head. That might 
not have saved me, either, had it not been 
that some of the boys, seeing my predicament, 
literally sailed into the Germans.' " 

" Poor child I " cried Bobby. " By this 
time I really ought to be half-way to the 
station." 

Don continued : 

" ' From now on I expect things to be more 
dangerous than usual, which is saying a good 
bit. I will write again soon if— though I 
will say au revoir.' " 


124 


Don Hale 


‘‘ I can’t say the prospect looks so very 
enchanting,” confessed Bobby. “ But, as the 
French say, * C’est la guerre I ’ And that 
means it isn’t any pink tea affair, eh ? ” 

“ I guess not ; though I never drank any 
pink tea,” laughed Don. 

Some time later T. Singleton Albert ap- 
proached the two. 

“ I thought I’d say good-bye, fellows,” he 
announced. I’m leaving during the fore- 
noon to-morrow, and you chaps might not 
happen to be around.” 

“ It’s too bad ! ” said Don. I suppose it’s 
no use of our saying a word, eh ? ” 

Not a bit,” declared the other, very 
emphatically. ** That tumble in the air 
certainly did the business for me. Why, do 
you know, even the very sight of an airplane 
going aloft gives me the queerest kind of feel- 
ings. Take my advice — be a bit slow in 
making haste. Then you won’t have to pack 
your suit-cases and get out, as I’m doing.” 

Albert spoke in the tone of one who felt 
that his ambitions had been rudely shattered 
— that the future held no hope. 

The daring young airman who had aston- 


With the Flying Squadron 125 

ished the students by his rapid progress had 
become once more the drugstore clerk, the 
very antithesis of what an airman might be 
expected to appear. 

Drugstore solemnly wished them the best 
luck in the world, hoped they might win 
fame and glory in the sky, and then, after 
shaking hands very heartily, wandered away 
to say his adieus to the others. 

I think, after all, the soda-water counter is 
his proper sphere in life,” remarked Dunlap, 
presently. He^s more fitted to be reading 
about the exploits of other chaps than trying 
to do them himself.” 

“ I hope the weather is all right to-morrow,” 
broke in Don. It was looking a bit threaten- 
ing when we came in — all clouded over. 
Let's take a look outside, ‘ Fear Never.' ” 

All right,” chirped Bobby. Goodness, 
how I hate rainy days I I think I know, 
now, how a chicken in a coop must feel.” 

The two walked outside the crowded bar- 
racks, and both at once gave voice to expres- 
sions indicative of disappointment. 

The entire heavens was covered with a 
thick canopy of clouds. 


126 


Don Hale 


I don't think Druggy need have said 
good-bye to-night/' remarked Peur Jamais, 
disconsolately. “ If I issued a Weather Com- 
munique it would sound something like this : 
High and steady winds ; heavy rains, with, 
no intermissions between ; lightning and 
thunder in equal proportions ; life-boats and 
rafts in demand.’ ” 

“Never mind,” sighed Don. “There are 
other days ahead of us.” 

“ If I didn’t think there were I’d never be 
standing here as calmly as this,” returned 
Bobby, laughingly. “ Let’s go back to the 
smell of kerosene and dismal light.” 

It was rather late when the crowd turned 
in ; and the last one hadn’t been asleep 
very long before pattering drops of rain were 
heard falling upon the roof, while the wind, 
in soft and musical cadences, kept steadily 
blowing. 

About two A. M. there came a veritable 
downpour and big, booming reverberations of 
thunder. Vivid flashes of bluish lightning 
filled each window with a dazzling glare and 
cast a weird and uncanny light throughout 
the room. 


With the Flying Squadron 127 

“ It’s a wild night, all right,” exclaimed 
Dublin Dan, half sitting up. 

It means no flying to-morrow,” grumbled 
Mittengale. 

** Such little trials have their usefulness.” 
It was Victor Gilbert who spoke. ** It teaches, 
or rather, should teach one to be philosoph- 
ical and accept the inevitable with resigna- 
tion.” 

** I don’t want to be philosophical,” com- 
plained Peur Jamais. ‘‘ And I won’t be 
philosophical, either. Whew ! Some big 
waste of electric light, that I” 

No one made any reply, or if they did it 
was unheard ; for the most appalling detona- 
tion shook and rattled the barracks. It 
seemed as if the structure must be shaken 
from its very foundations. 

And thus the storm continued until the 
boys were routed from their beds by the mu- 
sical notes of the bugle. 

It was pitch dark and gloomy. The wind 
tore past with no soft and musical cadences 
mingled in with its angry whistling, and now 
and again a flurry of raindrops splattered 
noisily down. 


128 


Don Hale 


The usual roll call was held, and then the 
boys were free to do as they pleased. Don 
Hale concluded to take a nap in his former 
place between the sheets. 

When he once more opened his eyes the 
morning was well advanced. 

Jumping out of his berth, with an exclama- 
tion of surprise, the boy hastily slipped on his 
clothes and walked outside. 

Scarcely a hint of color could be seen in the 
landscape. Here and there pools had formed, 
reflecting the dull, leaden gray of the wind- 
driven clouds, the air was filled with mois- 
ture, and the dull and heavy-looking earth 
seemed to have absorbed all it could possibly 
hold. 

Gazing at the landscape was not a particu- 
larly enjoyable pastime ; so the boy reentered 
the barracks. 

An hour passed, during which the crowd 
amused itself in various ways. Then a shout 
outside was heard. Although the words 
themselves were not understood, it was a call 
so clearly intended to bring the boys that a 
general stampede for the door was made. 

And when they reached it, they perceived a 


With the Flying Squadron 129 

biplane which, in utter defiance of the treach- 
erous wind buffeting it about, was approach- 
ing the aviation grounds at tremendous speed, 
its graceful, rocking form outlined in lightish 
tones against the sinister-looking storm- 
clouds. 

‘‘ I believe he's going to land I " cried Don. 

Of course. Did you think he was con- 
demned to fly forever I " chirped Dublin 
Dan. 

Now the loud, droning hum of the motors 
and propellers, which had been filling the air, 
suddenly ceased, and the object darting swiftly 
through the sky began to volplane in graceful 
spirals toward the earth. 

Realizing that the biplane, which all now 
recognized as a Nieuport machine, an avion de 
chasse, as the French call them, would alight 
some distance away, the crowd started run- 
ning over the muddy field toward it. 

And while they were on the way the pilot 
made the most perfect atterrissage^ any of 
them had ever seen. 

T. Singleton Albert, who had not yet left, 
was enthusiastic in his praise. 

* Atterrissage— landing. 


130 Don Hale 

“ Oh, boy, wasn’t that jolly fine I’’ he cried. 

And ” 

He got no further; for just then some one 
bawled out with much gusto and boisterous- 
ness: 

It’s a machine belonging to the Lafayette 
Squadron I ” 

The Lafayette Squadron I” echoed a num- 
ber of others, the rather shrill and falsetto 
voice of Drugstore being plainly heard. 

Sure enough, the insignia of the famous 
flying squadron — the face of an Indian war- 
rior, now faded and worn by the rains and 
snows which had beaten upon it, could be 
clearly distinguished on the body of the 
rakish-looking plane. 

Don Hale forgot all about the dreary 
prospect ahead of him for the day in his 
absorbed contemplation of the visiting biplane. 
Then his glances fell upon the aviator just on 
the point of stepping from the nacelle, or 
cockpit. 

‘‘ Hello I ” 

He uttered the word aloud and excitedly. 

The appearance of the aviator was thor- 
oughly familiar. He had seen pictures^ of 


With the Flying Squadron 131 

him many a time. A curious thrill shot 
through the boy ; for suddenly he realized 
that he was looking upon William Thaw, the 
famous American Ace, one of the most com- 
manding figures of the Franco-American Fly- 
ing Corps. 

Others, too, among the crowd had recog- 
nized the renowned aviator, and a burst of 
enthusiastic cheering ending in a “ Rah, rah, 
for Thaw I rang out. 

The famous ace smilingly bowed his ac- 
knowledgments, remarking • 

** Many thanks, fellows ! I thought I would 
just take a fiyer over here to pay a brief visit 
to my old friend, the commandant.^^ 

** But — but — you didn't actually come all 
the way from the front. Lieutenant Thaw, 
did you?" almost stuttered T. Singleton 
Albert, whose eyes were fixed with strange 
intensity on the trim, though mud-bespattered 
little Nieuport. 

“ Oh, yes I Had quite a scrap, too, just be- 
fore leaving. Did I get the Boche ? " Lieu- 
tenant Thaw smiled genially. No. I think 
that particular Teuton must have had faith in 
the old adage that * He who fights and runs 


132 


Don Hale 


away may live to fight another day/ Now, 
boys, I suppose it^s quite safe for me to leave 
the machine here until I return ? 

Being assured that it was, the aviator, with 
a wave of his hand, started trudging through 
the soggy field toward the commandant’s office. 

By this time Don Hale and Albert were 
making a close examination of the Nieuport. 
Both took a look at the cockpit, beautifully 
finished in hard wood, and at the upholstered 
pilot’s seat, and studied the brightly-shining 
nickel-plated instruments which tell the pilot 
practically everything he needs to know while 
in the air. 

There was something else, too, — an ominous- 
looking something else — which attracted and 
held their interest — a Vickers machine gun, 
the firing of which is so perfectly timed that 
the bullets fly between the whirling propeller 
blades. 

To Don Hale, and, doubtless, to many 
others, that weapon, catching and reflecting 
numerous gleams of light, was almost awe- 
inspiring. And, to add to these feelings, they 
presently discovered several bullet holes in 
b^th the upper and lower planes, silent and 


With the Flying Squadron 133 

eloquent testimonials of the perils which al- 
ways face the intrepid and courageous fighters 
of the air. 

At first Albert had been quite talkative — 
that is for him ; then, as he walked around 
the machine, studying every detail with the 
same interest that a connoisseur might have 
displayed in the contemplation of a rare and 
priceless piece of statuary, he suddenly be- 
came silent. Finally his mild, unassuming 
air deserted him, and, straightening up, he 
exclaimed, loudly : 

'' Fellows, Fve changed my mind. Nobody 
is ever going to call me a quitter. I'm not 
going to leave the school after all. No, sir I 
I'll keep at the flying game ; and, by George, 
I’ll get to the front, too." 

Following his sudden and almost vehement 
outburst, there came a silence. 

But it was quickly broken. And as loud 
as had been the cheering for the visiting 
aviator it distinctly held second place to that 
which greeted T. Singleton Albert's unex- 
pected declaration. 

The boys shook his hand and slapped him 
delightedly on the shoulder. 


134 


Don Hale 


** Julius Caesar I The Germans are going to 
pay dearly on account of this unexpected visit 
of Lieutenant William Thaw/’ cried Roy Mit- 
tengale. 

“ Poor Baron Von Richtofen and his Red 
Squadron of Death I ” laughed Bobby Dunlap. 
“Just think of all those gallons of red paint 
gone to waste ! Drugstore, your nerve is 
simply grand I ” 

A little later, when the American lieuten- 
ant returned, the students told him about the 
incident, whereupon he, too, heartily congrat- 
ulated Albert. 

“ We need young chaps like you at the 
front,” he declared. “ The air service is of 
the greatest importance. It has been called 
the ‘ Eyes of the Army.’ The game, too, is 
wonderfully thrilling — wonderfully interest- 
ing. Let me wish you much glory, success — 
and safety.” 

As he spoke, he climbed into the cockpit. 

Don Hale gave the propeller a whirl and, 
presently, amid a chorus of good-byes, the 
Nieuport started off. Faster and faster it 
moved over the field, sending streams of mud 
and water flying in every direction, and, at 


With the Flying Squadron 135 

last, gaining sufficient momentum, it glided 
into the air. 

The crowd watched the biplane until it had 
disappeared in the murky, moisture-laden air. 

** Boys, I’ll never forget this day,” declared 
Drugstore. ** It’s strange how little things 
may alter the whole course of a person’s 
life ! ” 

And every one, quite as solemnly, agreed 
with him that it was. 


CHAPTER X 


CORPORAL DON 

Not long after this there came another very 
interesting day in Don Hale’s life. He had 
graduated from the first and second classes 
and was to make his first flight in the air. 

Only those who have gone through a similar 
experience can understand Don Hale’s feel- 
ings when he seated himself in the cockpit of 
a much-used though sturdy little plane and 
laid hold of the controls. No veteran airman 
or famous ace ” ^ could possibly have felt 
more exultant or proud. 

The school by this time had become very 
full, and many of the i,Uves were obliged to 
await their turn ; so there were always plenty 
of spectators on the field ; and these generally 
paid particular attention to the boys who were 
making their first trial spin in the air. This 
all added to Don Hale’s tremendous desire to 

* Aoe — a pilot who has brought down five or more enemy planes. 

136 


With the Flying Squadron 137 

make a good showing ; for he still had vivid 
recollections of his preliminary experiences 
with the penguins.” 

** Now, remember, make no attempt to turn 
in the air,” commanded the moniteur in 
charge. Perfectly straight flights only ; fly 
no higher than thirty feet above the ground.” 

“ Get out your tape-measure, Donny,” gig- 
gled Roy Mittengale. “ Remember, every foot 
adds to the jolt of the fall at the bottom.” 

Don’t try to imitate Lieutenant Thaw so 
much that you’ll hurt yourself,” advised Ben 
Holt. 

Safety flrst in airplanes means not to go 
up at all,” chimed in another. 

Don, however, wasn’t paying the slightest 
attention to these jocular remarks, for the 
mechanic had his hand on the propeller. 

It certainly was a wonderful sensation to 
the young airman when he felt the machine 
suddenly begin to move, slowly at first, but 
rapidly gathering momentum, until, like a 
high power motor car, it was racing at a speed 
which made him almost gasp for breath. 

Presently the boy gritted his teeth together, 
and, with a peculiar feeling suggestive of 


Don Hale 


»38 

I-wonder-what-is-going-to-happen-next state 
of mind, pulled back gently on the control 
stick. 

And then, abruptly, he realized that the 
monoplane was traveling ahead with a most 
wonderful smoothness. The wind rushed 
past, lashing and stinging his face with its 
terrific force, but the heavy goggles prevented 
his eyes from being affected. 

Don Hale glanced over the side of the cock- 
pit, and, a little to his dismay, discovered that 
he was just skimming a few feet above the 
surface of the earth. 

A quick pull on the control stick sent the 
monoplane racing aloft, and before the boy, 
trembling with excitement, could bring it to 
an even keel he was far above the height 
limit set by the instructor. 

At first Don Hale had been acutely nervous 
— even fearful and apprehensive. To him it 
was a very marvelous thing to be actually off* 
the earth, the pilot of a real flying machine. 
And it scarcely seemed possible that the ma- 
chine should require so little attention. Like 
a flash, all the unpleasant feelings that had 
disturbed him vanished. 


With the Flying Squadron 139 

Jubilant, exultant, almost ready to shout 
with the sheer joy of the exhilarating sensa- 
tions he was experiencing, Don Hale once 
more looked earthward. How strange the 
ground looked flying beneath him at incredi- 
ble speed I How high above it he appeared 
to be ! If anything should happen to his 
machine a fall from that height might pro- 
duce most serious results. 

With one swift, comprehensive glance, his 
eyes took in the boys at various points on the 
field and the planes which, for one reason or 
another, were resting here and there on the 
turf. Then his greatest desire and ambition 
in the world was to descend — to return to that 
haven of safety. 

Yes, flying was easy enough ; but when it 
came to making a landing — that was where 
the difficulty began. 

Nervously, Don switched off* the current 
and pushed the control stick forward. 

And, to his utter dismay, the plane seemed 
to be falling headlong at an acute angle — the 
ground to be fairly shooting up toward him. 

For one brief instant he had a terrible 
vision of a fatal smash-up. Then, a pull of 


140 


Don Hale 


the lever in the opposite direction brought 
the nose of the machine upward again. And 
following this, to the boy’s intense surprise 
and relief, the monoplane dropped in the most 
gentle fashion to terra firma, taxi-ing across 
the field, its speed rapidly diminishing. 

When it had come to a stop Don found his 
face bathed in perspiration and his pulse 
throbbing in a way that it had seldom done 
before. 

By George I Am I actually here I ” he 
muttered. 

Notwithstanding the fact that the boy had 
made a mighty good landing and could hear 
shouts of approval coming from the distance 
he was too honest with himself to be gratified 
with the achievement. He knew that it was 
simply a case of good luck. 

‘'But just wait till next time!" he mut- 
tered, grimly. “ By George, the earth never 
seemed so fine before I " 

A number of Annamites presently appeared 
and turned the machine around. 

It was not for some time, however, that 
Don’s nerves quieted down sufficiently for 
him to put his airplane into motion. With a 


With the Flying Squadron 141 

fervent hope that fate would be as kind to 
him as it had been before, he switched on the 
ignition and once again faced the blasts of 
wind. 

Then came the delicious moment of soaring 
upward — the ecstasy of feeling himself borne 
through the air as swiftly as the arrow from 
an archer^s bow and that sense of wonderful 
freedom which the airman alone can enjoy. 

As before, he glanced downward, and a 
humorous thought came into his mind. 

‘‘Certainly I’m the biggest thirty feet that 
was ever known above the ground,” he mur- 
mured. “ I hope I don’t fly to the moon.” 

With astonishing rapidity the distant 
hangars, from hazy, indistinct objects, became 
strong and clear. He could see the students 
and instructors, watching, it seemed to him, 
with an interest and close attention that fired 
his spirit with the keenest determination to 
make a landing that would surprise them. 

He did. 

But the machine was not badly wrecked, 
nor was he himself injured by the fall of 
fifteen feet. 

It was merely a case, Mittengale genially 


142 


Don Hale 


explained, in which the earth happened to be 
that many feet lower than it should have 
been. 

Don said very little. It rather jarred his 
sensibilities to hear the mirthful laughter and 
bantering remarks and to see the Annamites 
towing an extraordinarily wobbling machine 
toward the repair shop. And, besides this, to 
add to his disturbed state of mind, the mon- 
iteur, a boyish chap named Boulanger, very 
loudly called attention to the error which had 
caused the accident, between times roundly 
scolding him. 

“ Quite a neat little bawling out I chirped 
Dublin Dan, soothingly. ** It's a great life if 
you don't weaken." 

‘‘ I don't include that word in my vocabu- 
lary," exclaimed Don, v/ith a half smile. 

But though Don Hale's start in the third 
class had not been particularly auspicious, 
nevertheless, by the end of the day he man- 
aged to gain sufficient mastery over the plane 
to receive a *'Pas mal, Hale I " — Not bad I " 
from the same moniteur who had chided him. 

That evening, while lying in his bunk, he 
summed up the situation in regard to himself. 


With the Flying Squadron 143 

There were other pupils who had made faster 
progress, but the boy felt sure that what he 
had learned he had thoroughly learned. He 
knew, however, that there was a tremendous 
amount of work ahead of him before he could 
possibly hope to equal the skill of the most 
humble flyer of the Lafayette Squadron — a 
squadron which he devoutly hoped to join. 

Difficulties have the effect on some natures 
of spurring them to greater zeal and determi- 
nation ; so it was in the case of Don Hale. 
Each failure, each bawling out,^^ each chorus 
of laughter only acted as a stimulus. 

In a little less than a week he had acquired 
sufficient skill in driving the machine in 
straight courses across the field to be promoted 
another step — that is to the tour de pistOy or 
tour of the aviation field at a height of about 
three hundred feet. 

This was, of course, designed to teach the 
airmen how to make their turns in the air, an 
operation requiring the greatest accuracy and 
care. Up to this time Don thought he had 
enjoyed about all the thrills that it was possi- 
ble to have, but the first tour de piste unde- 
ceived him. All the other experiences faded 


144 


Don Hale 


into insignificance when compared to this. 
In his splendid isolation from all mankind, 
he was filled with a certain sense of awe a 
little unnerving at first. He was in a situa- 
tion where no power save his own could be of 
any avail, and on the first two or three occa- 
sions involuntary tremors shook his frame as 
the Bleriot monoplane banked, or swung 
around at an angle. 

Happily, however, there was no tragedy to 
record. With increasing confidence, Don 
dared to rise higher, and within a few hours 
had reached the required altitude. From this 
elevation he viewed with absorbed attention 
the wonderful panorama, which, like a colored 
map, was outspread before him, revealing 
fields of various forms, shapes and colors, and 
patches of woods and hills. And dividing 
the landscape were light lines — the roads — 
running in all directions. 

His first tour was satisfactory to himself and 
his instructors. The turns held no terror for 
him. 

Following this several days of bad weather 
put a stop to the work of the school. During 
the enforced inactivity Bobby Dunlap had his 


V 


With the Flying Squadron 145 

curiosity and interest in Victor Gilbert and 
Jason Hamlin still further heightened by a 
violent altercation between the two, although 
neither he nor any one else was near enough 
to overhear the conversation. The fact, too, 
that the young chaps had evidently been just 
on the point of indulging in a physical en- 
counter made the Gilbert-Hamlin affair, as 
Bobby termed it, decidedly interesting. 

“ I'm going to find out all about it some 
day," he laughed, nodding his head emphat- 
ically. 

‘‘ Bully boy I " chuckled Sid Marlow. 

When the period of dull weather was over 
Don Hale started in with greater zeal than 
ever. He was doing his best to equal the 
record of T. Singleton Albert, who had so far 
recovered his nerve that he had no hesitancy 
at all in executing the vrille. 

By gradual degrees, Don took his machine 
to greater altitudes, until, at length, he was 
making the tour de piste at a height of three 
thousand five hundred feet. Now feeling 
somewhat like a veteran, he was fully prepared 
when the order came for him to perform some 
of the simpler evolutions in the air. One of 


Don Hale 


146 

these consisted in spiraling down to the earth 
with the engine shut off and landing almost 
directly beneath the point at which he started. 
Another was to volplane swiftly downward, 
and then, while still several hundred feet in 
the air, bring the machine to a horizontal 
position and swing around either to the right 
or left. 

These exercises proved to be a pretty severe 
test on his nerves, and at first affected his head 
and stomach in a truly distressing manner ; 
but constant practice, combined with a de- 
termined will, finally enabled him to gain the 
mastery over them, and he began keenly to 
enjoy the great and thrilling swoops through 
space. 

At length there came a time to which he 
had been looking forward most anxiously, and 
that was the beginning of his training in a 
big Caudron biplane, a rather slow but safe 
machine. This meant that Don Hale's stay 
at the Ecole Militaire de Beaumont was nearly 
at an end. 

There were now but two tests before him, 
one known as the petit voyage and the other 
the grande voyage. The first was a sixty mile 


With the Flying Squadron 147 

trip and return ; the second a triangular 
journey, each side being about seventy miles 
in length. 

By the time Don had passed these success- 
fully T. Singleton Albert and Victor Gilbert 
had gone to the great finishing school located 
at Pau, in the southern part of France. 

It was indeed a happy moment to Don 
when he received his “ Brevet d'Aviateiir Mili- 
taire from the War Department, which made 
him a corporal in the French army. This 
merely meant, however, that he had grad- 
uated from the school at Beaumont, and, like 
the two who had preceded him, was sent to 
take a course in “ acrobatics at Pau. 

Pau, he found, was very delightfully sit- 
uated, and within sight of the snow-capped 
Pyrenees. 

With even added zest, Don Hale entered 
into the work before him. It was more dan- 
gerous than anything he had attempted in the 
school at Beaumont ; but the tactics he learned 
were of extreme importance, being precisely 
those used in air fighting on the front. 

About the middle of his course Don Hale 
was ordered to report to the Mitrailleuse 


Don Hale 


148 

school at Casso, on the shore of a lake, where 
soldiers in all branches of the army are 
trained in the use of machine guns. In a 
two-seater, piloted by another airman, Don 
Hale practiced firing at captive balloons and 
moving targets on the lake. 

At first it proved very difficult, but constant 
work soon enabled him to meet the require- 
ments of his instructors. 

After the completion of this training he re- 
turned to Pan for a short period. Following 
this he went to Plessis Belleville to add a few 
final touches before being assigned to combat 
duty in one of the escadrilles. 

The boy’s greatest ambition was to join the 
Lafayette, where he might be near his chum 
George Glenn, and he passed through a period 
of much anxiety before the matter was finally 
settled in the affirmative by the military au- 
thorities. 

Proud and happy indeed, in his neatly- 
fitting uniform, with the corporal’s stripes on 
his sleeve and the golden wings and star 
insignia on his collar, Don Hale set out on his 
journey to join the escadrille, then encamped 
not far from Bar-le-Duc, near the Verdun front. 


CHAPTER XI 


THE LAFAYETTE 

Of all the flying corps in France none per- 
formed more valiant deeds or became more re- 
nowned than the Lafayette, composed of 
Americans who journeyed across the sea to 
help the French in their struggle against the 
invading hosts. Whether it was in answer to 
the call of adventure due to the love of thrills 
and excitement, or to the fascination of a new 
and wonderful sport, or simply from a sense 
of duty, are questions of no particular mo- 
ment — the members of the flying corps are to 
be judged solely by the remarkable work they 
accomplished. 

The fame of such combat pilots as Rockwell, 
Prince, Chadwick, McConnell, Lufbery, Hall, 
Walcott and numbers of others is of the kind 
which will last as long as history itself. Never 
again, perhaps, will men be called upon to re- 
peat their triumphs. 


149 


150 


Don Hale 


The day Don Hale arrived was an epochal 
one in his life. George Glenn and T. Single- 
ton Albert met him at the station in a little 
village crowded with soldiers and permission- 
naires. 

“ I can't tell you, Don, how glad I am to see 
you ; and yet I’m almost sorry to gee you," ex- 
claimed Albert, enigmatically. “ You’re in 
for excitement that will make your days as 
an ambulance driver with the Red Cross seem 
tame by comparison." 

** And they were plenty thrilling enough to 
suit me," laughed Don. ‘‘ What’s the latest 
news ? " 

That this little village was recently 
bombed." 

George Glenn pointed to a sign painted on 
the side of a building. 

'' ' Cave Vovlt^,’ ’’ read Don, aloud. 

These caves, he knew, were underground 
retreats, where the soldiers or inhabitants could 
find a refuge in case of a bombardment or a 
bomb-dropping expedition of the enemy. 

One good thing — our camp is outside the 
range of the guns," said George. 

As the boys walked through the little vil- 


With the Flying Squadron 151 

lage, which, during the earlier stages of the 
war, had been the scene of many an exciting 
event, Don Hale could not help but remark- 
ing on the changed appearance of T. Single- 
ton Albert. There was a gravity and sedate- 
ness about him which he judged to be caused 
by the dangers to which the airmen are con- 
stantly exposed. 

Had any exciting adventures yet. Drug- 
store ? he asked. 

** Plenty of them,'^ responded Albert. And 
then a light which Don Hale had never seen 
before flashed into the young chap’s eyes. 
“ Yet, in spite of that, I wouldn’t have missed 
this experience for all the world. Flying has 
all the joys, the thrills and excitement of 
every other sport beaten a thousand miles. I 
certainly owe a whole lot of thanks to Lieu- 
tenant William Thaw.” 

The three found plenty to talk about, 
though they were often obliged to let their 
lively tongues slow down on account of the 
lines of marching troops and the almost end- 
less procession of motor trucks passing in both 
directions. 

In about three-quarters of an hour they 


152 


Don Hale 


reached their destination — the headquarters 
of the famous Lafayette Escadrille, which 
happened to be, at this time, in a beautiful 
little villa, situated in the midst of spacious 
grounds. 

A number of the American pilots cordially 
greeted him, and Don was very glad to see 
among them Victor Gilbert. 

After meeting the courteous French captain 
of the escadrille the boy was shown to a room 
on the second floor, which he was to share with 
several others. 

Outside of the hazardous nature of their oc- 
cupation, the members of the American 
Squadron, unlike the doughboys and 
poilus, lived a life of ease and comfort. They 
had orderlies who attended to their needs, 
comfortable feather beds to sleep upon, and 
their meals, prepared by a French chef, were 
eaten in a dining-room which delighted the 
eye by its most artistic furnishings and deco- 
rations. 

It would have been very hard to analyze 
Don Hale’s feelings on this particular occa- 
sion. Expectation, eagerness, happiness and 
impatience, all seemed to hold sway over his 


With the Flying Squadron 153 

thoughts, and though the reality was before 
him he could scarcely believe that he actually 
had become a member of the famous American 
Squadron. 

After a substantial lunch, still in the com- 
pany of George Glenn and Albert, Don jour- 
neyed to the aviation field not very far away. 

With the utmost eagerness, he gazed about 
him. He saw numerous hangars, rest tents 
and various wooden structures. And, besides 
these, parked at one side, were ponderous 
motor trucks, trailers and several automobiles. 

Attached to the great encampment were 
mechanicians, chauffeurs, telephone operators. 
Red Cross attendants and motor-cyclists — for 
the business of fiying has its prosaic side as 
well as its thrills. Somehow or other it re- 
minded Don of a country fair on a large scale, 
and it would have seemed to him very nat- 
ural indeed had his eyes alighted on a barker, 
mounted upon a rostrum, exhorting a crowd 
of spectators to enter. There was a certain 
air of grimness and sternness, however, about 
the men whom they encountered that soon re- 
moved this impression. From the east came 
the sullen rumble of countless guns. Some- 


154 


Don Hale 


times it was low, like the mutterings of dis- 
tant thunder ; sometimes it swelled into a 
volume, as if a storm was about to burst, and 
then, like the sighing of the wind, almost 
faded away. 

A patrol was just about to leave for the 
front, and Don watched the Nieuports taxi 
across the ground, rise one after another in 
the air, and, after gaining a high altitude, 
soar in a V-shaped formation toward the bat- 
tle front. 

The boy thrilled at the sight, and his eyes 
followed the fast-flying planes until they were 
lost to sight behind a thin veil of whitish 
clouds. 

“ Of course, I'm pretty sure you know just 
what kind of work we are doing here," said 
George Glenn, but, notwithstanding, I am 
going to tell you a few things. Our squad- 
ron belongs to what is known as the group de 
combat, and it has a definite sector to cover. 
A patrol is always kept over the enemy's 
lines, not only to prevent the German pilots 
from entering ours but to make their lives as 
full of spice and adventure as w§ possibly 
can." 


With the Flying Squadron 155 

Still, we have a lot to do besides fighting,'^ 
put in Albert. “ Sometimes our duty is to 
protect the two or three-seater bombardment 
planes, the avions de r^glage^ or airplanes used 
by those who regulate the artillery fire, and 
the observation and photographic planes. 
The mission of the big ^ birds,^ although they 
are armed with two guns, and sometimes 
three, is a purely defensive one.*^ 

Quite often,” chimed in George, '"escort- 
ing bombardment and photographic planes, 
we travel quite a long distance into ' Ger- 
many,' as we call the other side of the barbed 
wire entanglements.” 

“ It must be wonderful I” cried Don. 

" Some of our experiences are, I can assure 
you,” returned George, with a half smile. 
" Now, Don, here is something the captain is 
going to tell you, and if you value your life 
and my piece of mind you will implicitly 
obey his instructions.” 

“ Fire away ! ” said Don. 

” It is to stick by the formation — always I 
The Germans have a habit of pouncing down 
upon stragglers, and unless the pilot combines 
skill, resourcefulness and courage in equal 


Don Hale 


156 

proportions, or sheer good luck intervenes, it 
is apt to be good-night/' 

You can trust me not to get lost,” said 
Don, with a serious look in his eyes. But, 
boys, I want to see my plane — I must see my 
plane, and, as the captain is right here on the 
field, I reckon he’ll show it to me.” 

In this view Don was not mistaken ; and 
presently a mechanic rolled out of one of the 
hangars a small machine, slender of fuselage 
and beautiful in its proportions. On the 
tapering body was painted an Indian’s head 
similar to the one on Lieutenant Thaw’s ma- 
chine. 

” As you see, all of the planes are num- 
bered,” remarked the captain, and, in addi- 
tion, each of the pilots has some special mark 
on the fuselage to distinguish his from the 
others.” 

Yes, Monsieur le Capitaine,” said Don, 
with a grin of delight. 

‘‘ This machine has a motor of two hundred 
horse power and can travel at a speed of about 
one hundred and forty miles an hour,” con- 
tinued the commander. '' And at times you 
will need it ail,” he added, dryly. “ When 


With the Flying Squadron 157 

may you go up? This afternoon. I will de- 
tail Sergeant Reynolds to accompany you in 
his plane. The German lines must not bo 
crossed, under any consideration, for several 
days at least. 

Oh I murmured Don. 

This was a great disappointment to the 
boy ; for he possessed that daring which 
youth is prone to indulge — a daring which 
may often lead to disaster, and, as often, be a 
means to safety. 

The captain, after introducing him to the 
mechanic who was to look after the Nieuport, 
walked away. 

The next half hour was one of unalloyed 
delight to Don Hale. He spent it in examin- 
ing the plane, the various nickel plated in- 
struments with which the cockpit was fur- 
nished and the Vickers gun, with its belts of 
cartridges. 

To fire this stationary weapon the pilot 
would have no need to remove his hand from 
the controls. The instruments consisted of 
a compass, an altimetre to register the height, 
a speed indicator and several others. Then 
there was a map in a roller case. 


Don Hale 


.58 

The top of the plane was camouflaged by 
means of spots of a greenish and brownish 
color ; and besides the concentric circles of 
blue, white, brown and red on the wings the 
end of the tail had been painted with the tri- 
color of France. 

Though Don Hale, as a rule, was a pretty 
calm lad, he found it hard to conceal his 
nervous tension. 

His preliminary flight that afternoon, how- 
ever, was really nothing more than a repeti- 
tion of those he had taken while in the train- 
ing schools. A green pilot was not to be fed 
to the hungry Boches, and he stood in no 
more danger from that source than if he had 
been hundreds of miles away. 

On the following days the sergeant led him 
a little further toward the fighting front. 
And then, having received all the protection 
which wise counsel and advice could afford, 
the young airman was pronounced ready to 
begin his career as a combat pilot. 


CHAPTER XII 


ABOVE THE CLOUDS 

On a certain morning, just after sunrise, 
Don Hale, in his fur-lined combination suit, 
leather aviation helmet, and provided with 
heavy goggles and gloves, was strapped in his 
machine. It was one of a row of six, which, 
in almost perfect alignment, were ready to go 
aloft. 

There was the greatest activity and noise 
about the flying field. The air was filled with 
the roar, the drone and the hum of many 
motors ; and in this sea of sound the reverbera- 
tions of the distant guns were, for the time 
being, completely lost. 

Don had received his instructions to fly 
at the rear of a formation of six machines, fol- 
lowing one another at a distance of fifty 
metres. This vol de groupe would patrol the 
German lines for a period of several hours. 

Don Hale found himself murmuring over 
169 


i6o Don Hale 

and over again : “ At last I ” And though he 
tried his best to still the rapid pulsations of 
his heart — to. control a hand that had an ex- 
traordinary tendency to tremble, it was with- 
out avail. He was going up to face peril of 
the gravest sort. 

Was anything going to happen ? 

Just then he felt almost afraid to think of 
what the fates might hold in store for him. 

Presently he saw the captain v/ave his hand 
as a signal, and a moment later the leader of 
the patrol rose in the air. The others fol- 
lowed. 

There was just an instant more of waiting 
for Don Hale, and then he, too, was rolling 
over the ground. 

As readily as a leaf borne aloft by a gust 
of wind the Nieuport answered to the controls 
and began spiraling upward. 

The six machines rose directly over the 
field, and at a height of about two thousand 
feet the leader headed toward the east, the 
others taking up their respective places in the 
formation. 

Higher and higher the fleet of wonderful 
little machines ascended, and Don Hale, 


With the Flying Squadron i6i 

glancing over the side of the cockpit, saw a 
wonderful panorama of the rapidly-receding 
earth, which the early morning sun was tint- 
ing with a soft and poetic glow. The most 
delicate tints of brown and green were broken 
here and there by darker notes of a purplish 
hue, indicating patches of woods. Criss- 
crossing the earth in all directions were the 
roads — thread-like lines of palish gray, and, 
as though some giant hand had scattered them 
carelessly about at widely distant points, were 
clusters of little glistening dots — villages, or 
what remained of villages. Now and again 
the boy's eyes caught sight of pools, mirroring 
on their surfaces the delicate tones of the sky 
or the clouds above, and presently the river 
Meuse came into view — a faint and hazy 
line. 

His practice in the school at Pau had taught 
Don how to preserve his place in the vol de 
groupey which, when the tremendous speed of 
the Nieuport is considered, is far from easy, 
and he had never made a better effort than at 
the present time. The new member of the 
Lafayette Squadron remembered vividly the 
stories he had heard concerning the fate of 


i 62 


Don Hale 


youthful and venturesome pilots who had dis- 
obeyed the commander^s orders. 

Eagerly, he kept his eyes open for enemy 
planes. He could not see any, but he did 
perceive, far below him, on both sides of the 
line, numbers of grotesque-looking observa- 
tion balloons, or sausages, as they have been 
jocularly christened. 

Now the altimetre registered a height of 
over ten thousand feet — they were approach- 
ing the battle-front. Don Hale was about to 
get his first view of “ Germany.^^ 

The boy, however, was too excited — too ab- 
sorbed in the contemplation of the singular 
scene below him, and, at the same time, so 
occupied in handling his plane that he did 
not feel any tingling sensation of fear. 

The battle-ground was covered with a thin 
veil of purplish smoke, and where the delicate 
shadows lay thickest on the earth he could 
occasionally distinguish the hashing lights of 
the guns or of exploding shells. But it all 
seemed very distant — very remote. The 
clouds of smoke from the bursting projectiles 
and innumerable batteries were but tiny spots 
amid the surrounding haze. Don realized 


With the Flying Squadron 163 

that a vigorous bombardment from both sides 
was going on and that a devastating hail of 
missiles was creating havoc and destruction in 
the opposing trenches and far to their rear. 
Then he had a swift glimpse of that irregular 
brownish stretch of land running between the 
hostile forces — '' No Man^s Land/' the most 
sinister, the most barren, the most mutilated 
strip of earth that has ever existed since the 
world began. 

The patrol leader was now mounting higher, 
and the reason became almost instantly ap- 
parent. The air straight ahead had become 
filled with round puffs of viciously-spurting 
black smoke. The ** Archies " were accord- 
ing the early morning visitors their usual 
warm reception. 

A second more, and not so many yards 
away there suddenly appeared the largest and 
wickedest-looking puff of all, and, above the 
roar of the motor, the startled Don Hale could 
hear the explosion of the shrapnel shell 
launched by the German gunners. 

The next instant he felt a terrifying thrill. 
His airplane was falling through space. 

Almost stifled by the air rushing past, with 


Don Hale 


164 

a horrifying vision of impending catastrophe, 
the boy, nevertheless, managed to keep his 
wits about him. But escape seemed impos- 
sible. A perfect hail of ‘‘ Archies popped i 
up in the air to the rear, to the side and to 
the front of the falling machine, the con- 
trol of which he was desperately trying to | 
regain. ' 

Though his agony of suspense seemed long | 
drawn out it was but a moment when the j 
terrifying descent was over and the machine | 
again flying parallel to the earth. ) 

It was almost miraculous that it had not 
been riddled with the fragments of the burst- 
ing shrapnel shells. The din of their almost 
continuous explosions was ringing in the 
aviator’s ears, and in the violently-disturbed 
air the Nieuport was rocking and plunging ' 
like a boat in a heavy sea. 

“ Never fly in a straight line ” was the ad- 
vice which had been given to Don before set- 
ting out on the expedition, and after the first 
few moments of suspense had passed Don j 
Hale managed to sufficiently calm his jump- - 
ing nerves and follow this instruction. He 
turned the nose of his machine upward, and, j 


With the Flying Squadron 165 

in a zigzagging flight, shot like a rocket into 
the blue depths above. 

A little later he found an inflnite relief in 
seeing the black thunderbolts exploding hun- 
dreds of yards below. 

But where was the rest of the patrol? They 
seemed to have utterly vanished. A strange 
sense of loneliness such as he had never known 
before took possession of him. And then, 
like a flash, he recalled George Glenn^s words: 

The Germans have a habit of pouncing down 
upon any stragglers they may happen to see.^^ 

Were there any enemy scouts about? 

He cast a swift, comprehensive glance over 
the vast expanse of sky. 

A number of planes were to be seen far to 
the rear of the German lines, but whether 
friends or enemies the new combat pilot could 
not possibly determine. At any rate, he was 
sure his companions must have ascended to 
the cloud level, now close overhead. 

Still thrilled at the thought of his narrow 
escape, he sent the biplane climbing higher 
aloft. Nothing in his school days could be 
compared to this flight, a flight in which 
danger threatened every moment. 


i66 


Don Hale 


Plunging into a cloud, the machine became 
enveloped in soft and fleecy masses of vapor. 
Not a thing could Don see in any direction. 
It was a most weird and curious sensation, 
he found, to be sailing so far above the 
earth, in the midst of the fog; and though 
he experienced a certain sense of freedom 
from danger he had an unpleasant feeling 
of half suffocation, which impelled him to 
escape as soon as possible from their enfolding 
embrace. 

Now, through a jagged opening he caught a 
glimpse of the earth, and just a moment after- 
ward something happened which gave him 
the greatest scare he had yet had in his brief 
flying career. 

A shadowy object — so faint as to be scarcely 
discernible — flashed into view to his right, and, 
while he gazed toward it as though fascinated, 
in a second of time it had grown into an ob- 
ject of seemingly gigantic proportions, though 
still so faint in outline that he could scarcely 
take in its exact form. 

Another instant and the phantom-like plane 
had swept past with lightning speed, leaving 
in its wake powerful currents of wildly- 


With the Flying Squadron 167 

swirling vapor, while the airplane, caught in 
the eddy, staggered and shook. 

“ Whew I That was another close call I '' 
breathed Don. “ Sure enough ! — this isnT 
a game for weak nerves. Hello — goodness 
gracious ! 

The Nieuport had shot above the strata of 
clouds. 

Even though his nerves were still tingling, 
his pulse throbbing violently, the combat 
pilot could not repress a gasp of admiration 
as he gazed out over the immense expanse of 
billowy forms that stretched in every direction 
in a vast circle against the soft blue field of 
sky. 

It was still early, the sun had not risen 
high, and its rays, falling upon the clouds, 
tinted them with the most delicate of rosy 
hues. 

** I almost seem out of the world, mur- 
mured Don, a trifle awesomely. 

** And how perfectly safe it looks I — just as 
though one could float about on the clouds 
and be in no danger of taking a header to the 
earth. But where am I in this curious world 
above? And, more important than all, where 


i68 


Don Hale 


are the other planes? I’d be in a nice posi- 
tion, shouldn't I, if some of Captain Richto- 
fen's Red Squadron should happen to come 
along I What shall I do ? ” 

The boy found that skimming close to the 
fleecy, ever-changing billows, sometimes dip- 
ping into them, was a fascinating sport. Up 
there everything was peace, loneliness and 
quietude. It seemed almost incredible that 
only a few miles below, on the earth he had 
just left, a terrible war was being waged and 
that every moment tragedies and horrors were 
taking place. 

But the time for decisive action had 
come. 

Boldly, though not without some trepida- 
tion, he plunged back inte the clouds. Then 
came a brief period of dense obscurity, fol- 
lowed by a weird, spectral illumination, as 
the daylight struggled to pierce the masses of 
moisture-laden air ; and presently the Nieu- 
port was again in full view of the shell- torn, 
battle-scarred earth, far over a hostile country. 

Many planes could now be seen, some be- 
low, some faint and hazy in the distance, 
others comparatively near. 


With the Flying Squadron 169 

And while Don was scanning each in turn, 
hoping to recognize the familiar Indian's head 
on the fuselage, he suddenly became conscious 
of the fact that, not very far away a fight in 
the air had begun. Probably half a dozen or 
more combat pilots were engaged ; and, al- 
most forgetting, in his interest and excite- 
ment, the danger of his position, Don Hale 
watched the wonderful spectacle, with his 
nerves at the keenest tension. 

Every acrobatic performance which he him- 
self had learned at the advanced school at 
Pan was being used by the rival airmen. 

Now and again one or another went down 
in a spinning nose dive, as though the ma- 
chine were totally out of control ; but in- 
stead of crashing to the earth it would right 
itself, and, with almost incredible speed, rise 
again to the attack. Fairly leaping over one 
another, flashing this way and that, narrowly 
avoiding collisions, they soared upward or 
swooped down, as a flock of enraged birds 
fighting among themselves might have done, 
and, faintly, the enthralled Don Hale could 
hear the vicious crackling of the machine 
guns, steadily spurting forth their messengers 


170 


Don Hale 


of death, and see the faint smoking lines left 
by the tracer ballets. 

Were any members of the Lafayette Squad- 
ron engaged in the conflict ? 

The boy mentally voiced this query over 
and over again as he flew around in a sweep- 
ing circle, keeping far above the contenders. 

He felt an almost irresistible impulse to 
join in the fray, and but for the fact that the 
squadron commander had explicitly ordered 
him to act only on the defensive probably 
would have done so. He had seen many a 
fight from the ground, but then the thrills 
were of a decidedly different nature from those 
which came while he was in the pilot^s seat 
of an airplane. 

A moment more, and, just as suddenly as 
the battle had begun, it ended. One of the 
combat planes began to fall, turning over and 
over in the air, now and then the dull gray 
wings with the Maltese crosses clearly out- 
lined against the floating masses of smoke be- 
low. 

Into these it plunged and disappeared from 
view. 

Thankful that neither his compatriots nor 


With the Plying Squadron 171 

any of the Allied airmen had been the victim, 
yet shuddering at the thought of the human 
life which had been sacrificed to the greed of 
the God of War, Don Hale headed for the 
west, having satisfied himself that the Allied 
planes, now rapidly retreating, belonged to a 
French air squadron. 

The black, sputtering Archies were be- 
ginning to burst beneath him again, one com- 
ing so dangerously near that once more a sort 
of consternation gripped him. 

This won't do at all I " he muttered. ‘‘ A 
little bit nearer the ceiling for me I " 

He was approaching the lines and ** No 
Man's Land " ; and following its tortuous 
course with his eyes he observed in many 
places the sudden bursts of smoke which told 
of the explosions of high-calibre shells. All 
about him the atmosphere was hazy and the 
distance entirely obscured. 

Now rapidly becoming familiar with the 
new game, Don began to feel more like him- 
self. For the first time he could understand 
how it was that the experienced pilots learned 
to treat with comparative indifference the 
angry shrieks of the attacking Archies." 


172 


Don Hale 


At length Don Hale discovered the patrol 
of Lafayette machines flying in a perfect 
formation just over the enemy’s line. 

After facing the dangers of the sky alone 
the sense of relief and pleasure that the 
sight of friends near at hand afforded him 
was delightful indeed. He felt like uttering 
a whoop of joy. 

Considering all such experiences as Tve 
just had once is too much 1 ” he muttered to 
himself. ** And this time you can just bet I'll 
not get separated." 

Nor did he. The patrol, which was only 
policing the air, led him into no further 
danger, and, consequently, when the two 
hours was over and they headed for the 
aviation field, nothing had occurred to add 
more thrills to those he had already received. 

Don Hale, however, was thoroughly glad to 
see the great encampment coming into view ; 
and equally glad when he had spiraled down 
to the earth and made an almost perfect 
atterrissage. 

Waiting machinists helped him out of the 
cockpit; and as he answered the questions 
fired toward him the boy felt as proud and 


With the Flying Squadron 173 

happy as any of the “ aces ” whose fame has 
spread throughout the world. 

His first reconnaissance over the enemy’s 
line was something he could never forget. 


CHAPTER XIII 


THE FARMER 

Several weeks passed, during which Don 
Hale became thoroughly familiar with and 
accustomed to the work of the escadrille. 
The boy was surprised to find how soon the 
unpleasant feelings which had assailed him 
on his first day’s sortie over the lines had 
worn off. True, he did pass through some 
barrowing moments — terrible moments, in 
which it seemed as though he was doomed to 
destruction. But, in general, familiarity with 
the dangers brought that indifference which a 
seasoned veteran in any of life’s great games 
usually acquires. 

By this time the young aviator had engaged 
in practically every kind of work done by the 
squadron. He, in company with other pilots, 
had acted as escorts to the big Caudron bom- 
barding machines, the artillery regulating 
planes, and those whose duty it was to travel 
over the enemy’s country, observing and tak- 
ing photographs. 


174 


With the Flying Squadron 175 

During several of these trips he had been 
introduced to what the boys pleasantly termed 

flaming onions/' These are balls of fire sent 
in a stream from a special gun, and they 
travel with tremendous speed. Fortunately, 
however, these sportive attempts of the Ger- 
mans did no damage to either him or his 
machine. 

During a vigorous attack when the French 
had succeeded in capturing and holding sev- 
eral of the German trenches he learned a great 
deal about contact patrol. This consisted of 
working in conjunction with the infantry, 
keeping them informed of everything that 
was taking place on the other side of ** No 
Man's Land," guarding them in every way 
from surprises and doing all that was possible 
to facilitate their ** Going over the top " by 
flying low over the ground and vigorously 
attacking the enemy's troops. 

Contact patrol was the most dangerous work 
of all ; for the pilots ran not only the risk of 
being struck down by the shells from the east 
but also by those sent by their own batteries 
in the rear. 

Occasionally, too, he joined expeditions 


Don Hale 


176 

which set out to destroy the big observation 
balloons which hung constantly in the sky, 
and on one of these trips he had seen an un- 
wieldy monster, somewhat suggestive of an 
elephant with its trunk cut off, sent flaming 
to the ground. 

But there was a sad, a tragic side connected 
with all the splendid and courageous work 
accomplished by the combat pilots. There 
were some who never returned, and who were 
listed in the official ** communique ' as being 
among the missing. There were others, too, 
wdiose planes, riddled by the enemy's bullets, 
were sent crashing earthward, to be smashed 
and splintered and torn apart by the terrific 
impact. 

Those were days of gloom and sorrow ; but 
the inevitable had to be accepted. 

Two events which interested Don Hale 
and T. Singleton Albert were the arrivals, 
at different times, of Bobby Dunlap and 
Jason Hamlin. The meeting between the 
latter and Victor Gilbert was of a nature 
no more cordial than that at the training 
school. 


Communique— Bulletin, . 


With the Flying Squadron 177 

Gilbert glared at the other, demanding 
gruffly : 

“You seem to find it hard to keep away 
from my company. There are other Franco- 
American Squadrons.^' 

“ Thank you for your charming and subtle 
intimation/' rejoined Hamlin, dryly. “ Let 
me say, however, that I pulled every wire I 
could so that I might have the pleasure of 
joining this squadron." 

“ Frightfully agreeable, I'm sure I " mut- 
tered Gilbert, turning away. 

“ I say, Peur Jamais," exclaimed Don Hale, 
some time later, “ how is the Sherlock Holmes 
business getting on ? " 

Bobby wagged his head mysteriously. 

“ Maybe I'm on the trail of something, and 
maybe I'm not," he responded. “ What do 
I think it is? To quote a classical remark : 
‘ I have nothing to say at this time.' Bombs 
aren't the only things that make explosions. 
Now let us drop the mystery." 

“That's better than dropping a bomb," 
laughed Don. 

“ That depends upon where you drop it," 
chirped Bobby. “ But, believe me, Donny, 


Don Hale 


178 

that Hamlin person is some flyer. He’d make 
an eagle so ashamed of himself that he’d 
swear off flying and stay on the ground for- 
ever. I believe he could almost fly by waving 
his arms in the air.” 

“ Wish I could I” sighed Don. “ It would 
come in mighty handy if a fellow’s plane 
were shot away from him while he was five 
miles in the air.” 

Often pilots when off duty gathered in the 
bureau, or ofiice, where reports were turned in 
and other necessary routine work of the 
squadron transacted. Hanging on the wall 
was a very large map of the sector, amazingly 
complete, showing the location of German 
aviation centres and even the points where 
their observation balloons were anchored. 
Naturally, from time to time, there were 
changes in the map, and the members of the 
squadron often found great interest in study- 
ing it and speculating as to its appearance a 
few months hence. 

As days succeeded days Don, George Glenn, 
T. Singleton Albert and Bobby Dunlap fre- 
quently met in the bureau, and it was on one 
of these occasions that Bobby took Don Hale 


With the Flying Squadron 179 

aside, and, in a very impressive manner, re- 
marked : 

“ Do you remember those nights at the Caf6 
Rochambeau when old P§re Goubain told us 
a whole lot about German spies ? 

“ Yes,^^ answered Don. 

Well, I don’t think he was so very far 
wrong. I’m brighter than the next person, 
and it looks to me as if the trail were getting 
warm.” 

What do you mean ? ” 

Don spoke in a mystified tone. 

'' Spies — spies ! ” chuckled Bobby. 

“ But where are they ? Maybe you think 
I’m a spy ? ” 

“ If you are you’d better be careful of little 
Sherlock,” chirped Peur Jamais. 

Some time later, the pilots were rather sur- 
prised and amused to see an old French peas- 
ant standing out front and gazing in evident 
wonder at the aviation fields. He was a 
typical son of the soil, wearing wooden sabots, 
or shoes ; and his faded blue garments showed 
many traces of his labor in the fields. 'Al- 
most primitive in appearance, and suggesting 
the uncouth, illiterate peasants which the 


i8o 


Don Hale 


French painter Millet loved to depict, he 
seemed so out of place amidst that most 
modern of all scenes — an aviation centre — 
that many of the boys found it rather hard to 
stifle an inclination to laugh. 

Hello, what’s the news from your section 
of the universe ? asked Bobby Dunlap, wag- 
gishly. 

The peasant glanced at him rather stu- 
pidly for a moment and then drawled : 

“ There aren’t enough people left in the 
place where I come from to be any news. 
There’s an awful big war going on, isn’t 
there?” 

“ Goodness I So you’ve discovered it, too I ” 
laughed Bobby. Where do you live? ” 

Not so very far away.” 

Are you thinking of changing your voca- 
tion and becoming an aviator ? ” 

The stolid-looking peasant, evidently seeing 
no humor in the remark, shook his head and 
mumbled : 

“ No.” Then, in a half-embarrassed man- 
ner, he inquired : “ May I take a glance in- 
side the house ? ” 

“To be sure!” exclaimed Jason Hamlin. 


With the Flying Squadron i8i 

“ The world owes everything to the farmer. 
He is the foundation upon which the world 
leans. Without him 

We’d have to become farmers ourselves,” 
giggled Bobby. 

The peasant, evidently feeling awed by his 
surroundings, entered the bureau. 

Once inside he gazed about him with a sort 
of abstracted air, uttered a few observations 
which caused titters of laughter to run around 
the room, and, presently, remarked to Jason 
Hamlin : 

This war hasn’t done any good to farming. 
Pretty big map on the wall. What’s it there 
for ? ” 

Repressing a smile, T. Singleton Albert at- 
tempted to explain, in his own peculiar style 
of French, whereupon the visiting farmer ex- 
claimed : 

‘‘ Too bad I But I don’t speak any language 
except that of my own country.” 

A loud laugh went up at the expense of the 
furiously-blushing Drugstore. 

And then Don took it upon himself to im- 
part the information. 

I see I ” exclaimed the peasant, musingly. 


i 82 


Don Hale 


He walked over to the map and began to 
examine it, his expression, however, indicat- 
ing an utter lack of comprehension. 

Victor Gilbert, who happened to be among 
the crowd, remarked in English : 

“ It’s too bad that the laboring classes 
should be so uneducated. And the lack of 
training dwarfs what intelligence they have, 
so that their minds fail to grasp even simple 
things.” 

The others agreed with him. 

But, at any rate, they found the visit of the 
farmer a pleasant diversion, and all were 
really sorry when he said good-bye and 
started for the door. 

That old chap is about the limit,” growled 
T. Singleton Albert. Talk about ignorance I 
It’s a positive wonder he has enough sense to 
find his way home.” 

And, just think I — the poor fellow under- 
stands only French,” chirped Bobby Dunlap. 

Drugstore was about to retort, when the 
entrance of several pilots stopped him. 

The newcomers had something to tell, too, 
which aroused a great deal of interest — several 
of them had had thrilling encounters with 


With the Flying Squadron ‘83 

Captain Baron Von Richtofen’s Red Squad- 
ron of Death. 

I feel sure the Baron was there himself/^ 
declared one. The way those planes were 
handled was simply marvelous. I thought I 
had certainly winged a Boche when he went 
into the vrille ; and I swooped down after him 
for about two thousand feet, intending to 
make sure of it. But, in some extraordinary 
manner, he got his plane under control, and 
before I could realize it I was shooting below 
him and his bullets were humming a tune 
past my ears.^^ 

Oh, boy, that is music I donT like to 
hear I ” said Bobby, with a perceptible shiver. 

** I reckon all of us prefer symphonies of a 
less dangerous kind,^^ remarked Gilbert, add- 
ing, rather reflectively : I haven’t had the 
pleasure yet of meeting that Baron and his 
pirate crew. Perhaps some day I shall.” 

“ Then let us hope it will be a red letter 
day for you,” cried Don. 

That night the escadrille was once more 
saddened by the disappearance of one of its 
members, and all telephone queries to the ob- 
servation posts failed to reveal what had be- 


come of him. It was feared, however, that 
he had fallen behind the German lines and 
been either killed or captured by the enemy. 

Many of the pilots remained late in the bu- 
reau discussing their fellow aviator^s possible 
fate, and while they were busily talking the 
sound of an anti-aircraft gun brought all who 
were sitting to their feet. 

I wonder if that means a Boche bombing 
raid I ” cried Don Hale, excitedly. 

The next instant a frightful din of crashing 
guns rent the air. 

With a common impulse, a rush was made 
for the door. 


CHAPTER XIV 


THE BOMBARDMENT 

By the time the excited crowd had piled 
outside powerful search-lights were reaching 
up into the starlit heavens, lifting out of the 
gloom with strange and fantastic effect the 
thin veil of clouds which here and there 
stretched across it. 

Even amid the booming of the anti-air- 
craft batteries and the sharper staccato reports 
of the machine guns from various parts of the 
field, all blending into an unearthly din, the 
droning of the motors high in the air could 
be distinctly heard. Like a pyrotechnic dis- 
play, luminous bullets, searching for the in- 
vaders, shot up into the sky, often piercing 
the low-hanging clouds ; and mingling in 
with them were vicious little spurts of fire 
which told of the explosion of shrapnel 
shells. 

The majority of the pilots, familiar with 
the dreadful danger which menaced them. 

185 


i86 


Don Hale 


made a wild dash for the underground 
shelters. But Don Hale and a few others, 
fascinated by the awe-inspiring scene and 
situation, remained. 

Isn't this awful ! ” cried Bobby Dunlap, 
with a distinct tremolo in his voice. “ Great 
Scott!" 

At that instant a loud, though dull boom 
from the explosion of a bomb had added its 
quota of noise to the raging inferno of sound. 

It hadn't landed so far away, either, and, 
as Don Hale, in the grip of fear and excite- 
ment which he found impossible to control, 
strove to pierce the gloom, three reports, even 
louder, followed one another in quick suc- 
cession. 

Great Csesar 1 " cried Bobby Dunlap. “ It 
seems as though they are going to wipe the 
aviation camp oflf the map. It's time for us 
to run for our lives." 

And with these words, jerked out so fast 
that they were scarcely intelligible, he started 
off on a headlong sprint to join those who had 
sought a haven of safety. 

But even then neither Don, George nor 
Albert could tear themselves away from the 


With the Flying Squadron 187 

singular scene that was passing before their 
eyes. Every search-light — every gun was be- 
ing used. Dazzling streams of whitish light 
crossed and criss-crossed or swept in wide 
circles over the sky — the darkness of night 
seemed to be rent asunder. Flaming bullets 
were rising by the thousand. 

Notwithstanding the terrific defense of the 
French batteries the German bombs continued 
to fall. Their appalling detonations seemed 
fairly to shake the ground. 

It was a situation wherein the tragic and 
the terrible held full sway. No man alive 
could have stood it without fear and trem- 
bling ; for, at any instant, one of the bombs 
might have fallen into their very midst. 

And then, while they stood there, motion- 
less, silent, their pulses quickened by the 
emotions within, they saw something which 
brought husky exclamations from their lips. 

It was the sight of a German plane, spectral 
and ghostlike, sailing serenely along in a 
dazzling sea of light. Flying this way and 
that, it now and then almost disappeared in 
the obscurity beyond, but, inexorably, it was 
pulled back into the field of vision by the 


i88 


Don Hale 


ever-moving rays. And then a second and a 
third plane sprang into view, all appearing as 
pale, ethereal and ghostlike as the other. 

And as the pilots kept their eyes fixed upon 
this wonderful and singular spectacle, which 
seemed to combine the elements of the super- 
natural and unreal, they became witnesses to 
a scene which is given to but few in this world 
to see. 

Suddenly, just beneath the foremost ma- 
chine, now in the full glare of light, there ap- 
peared a tiny flash of fire, a tiny burst of 
smoke — the circling flight was ended. Al- 
most simultaneously with the explosion of 
the shrapnel shell the battleplane began to 
fall, at first slowly, as though the airmen near 
the clouds were desperately seeking to regain 
control. 

What was going to happen ? A few seconds 
would tell. 

They were thrilling seconds, too, to the 
little shivering knot of spectators by the 
bureau. 

Ah— ah I ” 

A long-drawn, shrill exclamation came 
from Don Hale. 


With the Flying Squadron 189 

The plane, after wobbling and staggering 
for the briefest instant, began a spinning dive 
toward the earth ; and before it had gone 
many hundred feet a portion of one of its 
wings was seen to become detached. Almost 
instantly came a little burst of ruddy flame, 
rapidly increasing in intensity, until, at last, 
the airplane was blazing from end to end. 
Like a flaming meteorite, the doomed ma- 
chine, still bathed in the dazzling white glare, 
continued its frightful plunge. 

Down, down, it came, whirling and spin- 
ning, growing larger and more distinct with 
each passing second, and leaving behind it a 
long sinuous trail of sparks and inky smoke. 

Absorbed — enthralled by the terrible spec- 
tacle, Don Hale almost forgot the danger that 
ever menaced them. 

But before the plane had reached the 
ground the peril of their exposed position was 
brought forcibly to his mind by another loud 
report from a bursting bomb. It seemed to 
have fallen nearer at hand than any of the 
others; and he was just about to urge his 
companions to leave when, without warning, 
there came a frightful and appalling explosion, 


Don Hale 


190 

SO terrible in its power that he found himself 
jerked otf his feet and thrown violently for- 
ward. 

Shocked, dazed and bewildered, he struck 
the turf at full length, where he lay as 
motionless as if the end had come. 

He was brought to his senses, however, as 
suddenly as though ice-water had been dashed 
into his face. The explosion had hurled aloft 
great masses of earth and debris ; and now, 
like a descending avalanche, they began beat- 
ing upon the ground close about him with 
thuds and bangs and crashes. 

With a startled cry, the boy staggered up. 
A clump of earth struck him on the back 
with almost stunning force ; a piece of board 
crashed down at his feet, and in wild haste, 
he began the retreat that should have been 
made before. 

And, to add to the danger, spent bullets 
from the shrapnel shells came pelting down. 

The distance to the nearest underground 
shelter was very short, but it seemed like a 
mighty long way to the frightened runners. 
Could they reach it ? 

Panting, perspiring, almost desperate, they 



( ( 


» > 


THE GERMAN LINES MUST NOT BE CROSSED 




With the Flying Squadron 191 

crossed the last lap of the intervening space 
and fairly threw themselves into the crowded 
bomb-proof shelter. 

Their wild and unceremonious entrance 
brought exclamations from the crowd. But 
no effort was made to speak, however, for, 
amid the mighty, crashing chorus of the 
guns, voices could scarcely have been heard. 

Huddled together in the shelter, which was 
dimly lighted by a single oil lamp, feeling 
the earth trembling beneath their feet, the 
pilots listened with awe to the sound of the 
explosions. It was mighty unpleasant to be 
cooped up — mighty unpleasant to think of 
what might be happening to the hangars and 
the little fighting Nieuports, and when, after 
what seemed to be an interminably long time, 
the din of the anti-aircraft guns and bursting 
bombs began to slacken, Don Hale gave a big 
sigh of relief. 

“ I guess it's all over, boys," he shouted. 

I'm going to make the Germans sorry for 
this," cried Bobby Dunlap. 

As the crowd, headed by Don, made for the 
door the firing had ceased, and, in contrast to 
the terrific racket of a few moments before. 


192 


Don Hale 


the comparative silence seemed almost strange 
and unnatural. The giant search-lights were 
still sweeping the sky, but the enemy had 
evidently been driven away. 

Intent upon finding out as quickly as pos- 
sible what damage had been done, Don Hale 
and George Glenn hurried toward the point 
where the bombs seemed to have fallen most 
thickly. Men were hurrying this way and 
that, and officers could be heard shouting 
their orders. It quickly developed, however, 
that the camp, very fortunately, had sus- 
tained but little damage. Great pits had 
been dug in the ground by the force of the 
explosions, the end of a hangar demolished, 
and two machines and a little storehouse 
destroyed. 

Now I feel very much better,^' declared 
Don. Honestly, I never expected to see that 
Nieuport of mine again.” 

From the amount of noise they made, one 
might have thought the whole camp was go- 
ing skyward,” declared George. Before the 
Boches have a chance to pay us another visit, 
Don, let^s beat it for the villa.” 

** Done as soon as said,” exclaimed Don. 


With the Flying Squadron 193 

Long accustomed to the terrors and scares 
of the war zone, the boys had now entirely 
recovered from the effects of the bombardment 
from the sky. 

With a number of others, they climbed into 
a big camion and were driven to their head- 
quarters. On the way they saw encampments 
of soldiers in the fields, their tents, with lights 
inside, showing as faintly luminous spots in 
the darkness. Now and again a long convoy 
lumbered along the road ; batteries were mov- 
ing up nearer the front ; reserves, too, passed 
them, marching steadily and silently, the 
rhythmic sound of their steadily-tramping feet 
sounding weirdly in the night. 

And though no particular incident marked 
the journey, Don and George were thoroughly 
glad when they reached their comfortable 
room in the ancient villa. 

Tired, after the many hours of work and 
excitement, they immediately turned in. 

And thus ended another day. 


CHAPTER XV 


A BATTLE IN THE CLOUDS 

During the following afternoon Don Hale 
and T. Singleton Albert were detailed, with 
eight other pilots, to act as an escort to a big 
Caudron photographic machine, which was to 
make a trip to a point many miles inside the 
German lines in order to take photographs of 
a railroad centre. 

Don Hale’s machine on this occasion was 
armed with eight rockets, with dart-like heads, 
four on either side of the fuselage. These are 
designed for the purpose of destroying observa- 
tion balloons, bullets from the machine guns 
not being sufficiently large for the purpose. 
The rockets are projected into space at terrific 
speed by means of powerful spiral springs, and 
ignite at the instant of departure, 
f The art of photography has been a great 
factor in the world war, driving secrecy from 
its cover and enabling the opposing forces to 
194 


With the Flying Squadron 195 

make an almost complete record of what was 
taking place on the other side of the line. 

The two-seater Caudron machine which the 
combat pilots were designated to protect was 
armed with only one swivel gun. The cam- 
eras, pointing downward, were attached to the 
sides of the fuselage, and in order to take a 
photograph it was necessary only to pull a 
string. 

It was rather late when the commanding 
officer gave the signal for the departure. In a 
spiraling flight, the Nieuports rose in the air, 
and, at an altitude of about six thousand feet, 
waited for the photographic machine to meet 
them at their airy rendezvous. 

Immediately ranging themselves in a V- 
shaped formation, with the big Caudron at the 
apex, the fleet of planes headed for “ Ger- 
many.*’ Very soon some of the flghting 
Nieuports dropped below the machine they 
were escorting, while others soared a thousand 
feet above. 

The weather was hot and sultry, and fre- 
quently the swiftly-speeding planes cut 
through patches of lazily-floating clouds, 
which left shining drops of moisture clinging 


Don Hale 


196 

to spars and struts. They sailed high above 
a long line of French observation balloons, 
and could see others belonging to the enemy 
— faint yellowish dots in the distance. But 
Don Hale was paying very little attention to 
them, for the famous town of Verdun, re- 
sponsible for some of the most desperate bat- 
tles ever fought in the history of the world, 
appeared before his eyes. Here and there 
were great gaps among the red-roofed houses, 
showing where the high-explosive shells of the 
Germans had shattered and torn and blown 
everything to pieces. Faintly, he could see 
those mighty forts — Vaux and Douaumont 
and, in another direction, the famous Mort- 
Homme, so valiantly defended by the French. 

And the same scenes which he had wit- 
nessed on all his trips over the front were 
again before him — the haze of smoke floating 
high above the battle-fleld, the batteries in 
action, the flashes of the exploding shells, and 
the airplanes either hovering like flocks of 
birds or patrolling the lines. 

As they passed over the trenches the Cau- 
dron and its escorting Nieuports rose to an 
altitude of fifteen thousand feet ; for the air 


With the Flying Squadron 197 

beneath them was filled with the little balls 
of black smoke which told that the Archies ” 
would have liked nothing better than to bring 
them crashing to the earth. The pigmy and 
futile efforts of the gunners, however, only 
served to amuse Don Hale. How harmless 
the exploding shells appeared I Yet how ter- 
rible they were when viewed at closer range I 
At various points, silhouetted against the 
blue of the sky or the scintillating white of 
the clouds, he could make out hostile air- 
planes which, as was often the case, were keep- 
ing well to the rear of their own lines. 

Would they be attacked ? 

Don Hale scarcely thought so, or, at least, 
not so long as the formation kept together. 

Thus, with his mind at comparative ease, 
he thoroughly enjoyed the swift fiight through 
the cool air high above the earth. Gazing 
over the side of the little cockpit, he studied 
the territory occupied by the Germans with 
an interest which familiarity never seemed to 
lessen. Occasionally Don's view of the net- 
work of roads, the tiny villages and the farms, 
surrounded by their vari-oolored fields, was 
blotted from view by the constantly increas- 


Don Hale 


198 

ing layers of fleecy white clouds. Their 
shadows were chasing each other over the 
warmly-tinted earth. 

The wind was blowing straight into ** Ger- 
many/^ and, to Don Hale, the weather condi- 
tions seemed to be fast becoming ominous and 
threatening. This thought at length became 
a little disquieting. If anything should hap- 
pen to their planes while over the enemy’s 
country it might mean a descent ; and a de- 
scent would undoubtedly mean capture — an 
inglorious end to a flying career — a fate par- 
ticularly dreaded by the airmen. 

I won’t be sorry when this trip is over,” 
muttered Don to himself. This kind of 
life certainly gives a chap fifty-seven difierent 
kinds of feelings.” 

Owing to the great velocity of the flying 
flotilla, their destination, a town of consider- 
able size, soon afterward came into view, and 
the whole formation volplaned to a lower 
level. Now they plunged through the clouds. 
And on emerging Don could see many evi- 
dences of life and activity going on below. 
Here and there were aviation fields bordered 
hy gray hangars. Almost directly beneath a 


With the Flying Squadron .199 

column of troops on the march suggested so 
many tiny ants creeping slowly over the 
ground. A long line of moving dots on a 
white road indicated a convoy going up 
nearer the line, while on a railroad leading 
into the town the eager and interested young 
combat pilot espied a train traveling, appar- 
ently, with a strange and sloth-like motion. 

And now the peaceful character of the voy- 
age came to an end. The Archies ” were at 
work again, and on every side, and danger- 
ously near. Don Hale saw the wicked, lash- 
ing little balls of black smoke, though the ex- 
plosions of the shells could scarcely be heard. 
Nor were the flying men threatened by the anti- 
aircraft batteries alone : Albatross and Fokker 
machines were approaching. And, in order 
that the enemy planes might not gain too 
great an altitude and be in a position to dive 
down upon them, the leader of the flotilla 
gave a prearranged signal ; whereupon several 
of the convoys began following him to a 
higher level. 

Don Hale, however, had been instructed to 
remain below, while the photographs were be- 
ing taken, and the prospect was not altogether 


200 Don Hale 

a pleasant one. He well knew that the Cau- 
dron would take all sorts of risks in order to 
obtain the desired pictures ; and the protect- 
ing Nieuportfl, to fulfil the duties imposed 
upon them, must all expect to run a fiery 
gauntlet of shrapnel. 

Down — still further down, as though un- 
mindful of their spiteful presence, the big 
Caudron fiew in a circling fiight directly over 
the town. 

Now in light, now in shadow, the collec- 
tion of buildings made a pleasant picture. 
The golden cross surmounting the spire of the 
lone church occasionally reflected the mellow 
rays of the sun, and, like a jet of fire, sent its 
light into the sky. 

But these were things to which Don Hale 
paid not the slightest attention : his mind 
was wholly wrapped up in the work ahead of 
him. He was playing a game in which life 
and liberty were at stake, and, as the Nieu- 
port rocked and shook in the currents of the 
air disturbed by the almost continual explo- 
sions of the shrapnel shells, he warily watched 
the movements of the enemy planes. 

Somehow or other, now that the perilous 


201 


With the Flying Squadron 

moment had come, he felt neither excited, 
apprehensive nor alarmed. An almost un- 
natural calmness seemed to have a hold upon 
him ; and even when he saw a hole suddenly 
appear on the left-hand side of the upper plane, 
which meant that a piece of flying lead had 
pierced it, he did not lose his steadiness of 
hand or presence of mind. 

He seemed to be fairly surrounded by the 
bursting shells. In every direction he turned 
they were there to meet him. The flaming 
onions,^^ too, were beginning to cut their flery 
passage through the air ; and as they traveled 
with terrible swiftness the danger from them 
was even greater than that from the anti-air- 
craft guns. 

Around and around soared the photographic 
machine ; and around and around soared the 
Nieuports, both above and below. It was a 
veritable ride of death, with a chance that 
some of the combat pilots would pay the pen- 
alty for their daring, and be recorded in the 
brief official communique as among the miss- 
ing or the dead. 

Suddenly the photographic machine darted 
downward. Don Hale, with his eyes flxed 


202 


Don Hale 


upon it, almost held his breath with suspense 
and apprehension. It seemed scarcely possi- 
ble that the pilot could rise again. 

However, just as this gloomy thought was 
becoming fixed in his mind, the airplane be- 
gan to ascend. 

Intuitively,the boy realized that the danger- 
ous mission of the photographer and his pilot 
was over; for, like a captive bird escaping 
from its imprisoning cage, the Caudron shot 
steadily upward, and was soon far beyond the 
reach of the guns below. 

The lower escorting planes, which many 
times had come close to destruction, immedi- 
ately followed. 

And then Don Hale, strange to say, began 
to feel the effects of a reaction. The hand, so 
steady in the midst of terrible peril, now 
trembled slightly. He found it hard to shake 
off a curious foreboding — a foreboding that 
sometimes sent chills along his spine — that 
much might happen in that perilous return 
journey over a hostile land. 

To show that his fears were entirely justi- 
fied, when once again the boy gazed aloft he 
discovered that some of the bolder enemy 


With the Flying Squadron 203 

scouts, now assembled in a formation as for- 
midable as tlieir own, were hot on the trail of 
the fast retreating Americans. 

Looks like a scrap,^^ murmured Don, 

The pilot cast a look at his machine gun 
and belt of cartridges, all ready on the instant. 

Should he have to use them ? He hoped 
not ; yet it looked that way. 

And all the time the wind was steadily in- 
creasing in force, making necessary the closest 
attention and most extreme care in handling 
the biplane. Thus, with the elements against 
him and surrounded by the gravest danger, 
Don Hale decided that by the time he reached 
the aviation field, if he ever did, he should be 
able to recount a tale as interesting as any of 
those he had often heard. 

Occasionally he glanced over the side of 
the fuselage, to see the big Caudron, now con- 
siderably below him, sometimes skimming 
close above the clouds and sometimes en- 
veloped in masses of vapor. He very well 
knew that if an attack were made the photo- 
graphic machine would be the principal ob- 
ject sought for, owing to the value of the 
records it was carrying. 


204 


Don Hale 


And while Don was busily reflecting upon 
this he suddenly realized that action both 
above and below him had begun. He could 
see several planes whirling and darting about, 
and though the rapid reports of the ma- 
chine guns were unheard amid the roar of 
his motor he caught sight of narrow lines of 
smoke left by the passing tracer bullets. 

Great Julius Caesar 1 ” he muttered. “I 
am in for it. I wonder when my part in the 
show begins I 

It came much sooner than he had expected. 
While several of the Lafayette machines be- 
low and to the rear of the Caudron were en- 
gaged in deadly combat by the enemy a 
fighting plane with the ominous Maltese 
crosses on its wing flashed past Don Hale, 
diving vertically toward the tail of the 
Caudron. 

The crucial moment had arrived. Don 
Hale’s heart was throbbing fast again ; his 
lips were compressed ; his eyes flashing. 
Then, without a second’s indecision — without 
a thought of the consequences — he, in turn, 
began a headlong swoop through space. 

In a moment or two he shut off the motor ; 


With the Flying Squadron 205 

for he was about to execute that evolution 
taught in the acrobatic school at Pau known 
as the “ Russian Mountain/' Although he 
had performed it many times under different 
circumstances, the terrific downward rush 
never failed to make him gasp for breath. It 
was the same on this occasion, and his ears 
seemed to be almost bursting. The rushing 
wind beat fiercely against him, its whistling 
notes, ominous and threatening, ringing out 
loudly. Like a plummet dropped from the 
clouds, he still plunged in a vertical descent. 
Now he dashed past, dangerously close to 
some of the fighting machines, and through 
an air filled with tracer and flaming bullets. 

By this time the Caudron was desperately 
trying to avoid the enemy in the rear. But 
it seemed impossible that it could escape from 
the marvelously swift and brilliantly maneu- 
vered German plane. This machine had just 
succeeded in gaining an advantageous position 
when Don Hale swept by. 

Now he pushed the control stick away from 
him, which, raising the ailerons, caused the 
machine, with startling abruptness, to end its 
fall and come out on an even keel. 


2o6 


Don Hale 


Though jarred and dizzy, the combat pilot 
lost not a second in starting the engine. An- 
other movement with the control lever, and 
the Nieuport was shooting upward directly 
toward the tail of the German plane. Its 
pilot was already busily engaged in pouring a 
hail of bullets in the direction of the Caudron. 

Don had gone through some thrilling ex- 
periences in the war zone, but there had 
been nothing like this. He realized that the 
fates had decreed that through his efforts 
alone the safety of the photographic machine 
depended. Never before had he fired a 
Vickers gun in actual combat, and for the 
briefest interval of time an overwhelming 
sense of agitation — of excitement gained a 
hold upon him ; and before it had passed, and 
while the perspiration stood out on his face, 
he took aim, operating the gun with his left 
hand, and fired. 

He could hear the spitefully-crackling re- 
ports ; he saw the bursts of smoke spreading 
outward and upward. Then his machine 
swept past, in an ascending flight, at a dis- 
tance of not more than fifty yards. 

It was a strange sensation to be gazing upon 


With the Flying Squadron 207 

an enemy's machine so close at hand, and, in 
his instantaneous glance, the details seemed 
to be indelibly impressed upon his mind. 
He saw the helmeted pilot turn ; and for the 
fraction of a second the two gazed into each 
other's faces. 

Before Don Hale could maneuver his plane, 
in order to renew the attack, he passed through 
some instants of terrible suspense. 

Had his shots taken effect? Or was the 
photographic machine doomed, after all ? 

But what the boy saw when he looked 
again made him feel like uttering a shout 
of joy. The machine with the black crosses 
on its wings was descending abruptly, with 
erratic movements. 

I got him I " breathed the boy. 

Triumphant, with his fighting blood aroused 
to the highest pitch, the young combat pilot, 
yielding to the now irresistible call of battle, 
shot toward another avion de chasse which 
bore the enemy^s markings. He had not 
gone very far, however, when he was startled 
by a fusillade of flaming bullets, passing close 
to his wings on the right. 

A German pilot had stolen upon him from 


2o8 


Don Hale 


the rear, and Don was in the worst possible 
position to defend himself. 

Instantly he sent the nose of the Nieuport 
upward, gave the control lever a swift jerk 
forth and back, and, like a flash, the machine 
described a complete backward somersault, 
while its pursuer shot past beneath. 

The almost breathless Don Hale realized 
that his escape had been of the narrowest sort 
— that he was still in the gravest peril. Other 
machines were speeding toward him. The 
odds were entirely too great for an inexperi- 
enced combat pilot. Moreover, he had caught 
a glimpse of three new French planes com- 
ing to the rescue. Don's own safety lay in the 
clouds just above, and he flew toward them 
with all the speed of which his Nieuport was 
capable. 

And in that upward journey, brief though 
it was, he sensed rather than saw that the air 
close about him was filled with fiercely con- 
testing planes, darting, swirling, almost tum- 
bling over one another. The atmosphere, too, 
was literally criss-crossed by the multitude of 
faint bluish lines left by tracer bullets. 

When the clouds closed about Don Hale 


With the Flying Squadron 209 

and he found the view completely obscured, 
he experienced a wonderful sensation of re- 
lief. Yet his nerves were pretty badly 
shaken. Like the game hunter who has 
momentarily escaped the lion’s claws yet 
knows that the mighty animal is lurking 
near to renew the attack, his thoughts of 
what the immediate future might have in 
store for him sent renewed tremors through 
his frame. 

War is a cruel and pitiless thing, in which 
compassion and the kindlier impulses of the 
human heart have no place. He himself 
could give no quarter, nor could he expect any. 

And now there was something else besides 
the relentless foe which began to cause him 
anxiety — even alarm. The weather condi- 
tions had been becoming steadily worse, and 
the force of the wind, still blowing steadily 
into Germany,” made the movements of the 
Nieuport like that of a boat wallowing in the 
trough of a heavy sea. Sometimes, without 
an instant’s warning, he found himself drop- 
ping like a shot, and the next moment, as 
though raised on the crest of a mighty billow, 
sent shooting upward. 


210 


Don Hale 


The clouds were growing thicker ; the 
curious, half luminous light was being re- 
placed by a deep and forbidding gloom, not 
like that of night or of anything else he had 
ever seen. And through this weird and seem- 
ingly unnatural darkness there occasionally 
came gleams of spectral bluish light which 
told him that the greatest artillery in the 
world was rapidly getting ready for action, 
and that before long it might be expected to 
break loose in all its majestic power. 

Where was he? — far over the German ter- 
ritory ? He could not tell ; yet it seemed very 
likely that such was the case. At any rate, 
he must make for home. How ? — below the 
clouds ? No. There are limits to which one's 
nerves can be subjected. He must climb 
through them and fly above. Single-handed 
it would not do to face those lying in wait 
below. He felt terribly alone — terribly friend- 
less. 

The darkness was suddenly torn asunder 
by a brighter flash and, for the flrst time, he 
heard a sullen rumble, which, beginning like 
the roll of muffled drums, rapidly increased 
until it was sounding in a crashing crescendo. 


211 


With the Flying Squadron 

** Great Scott I This is about the worst 
ever I '' muttered Don. ** Yes, I certainly 
shall have something to talk about — only, it 
will be too much ! I never expected that I’d 
be witnessing a storm from a balcony seat.” 

He tried to impart a little jocularity to his 
tone, but the attempt was unsuccessful. 

It was a pretty awesome thing to be amid 
the storm-clouds, with the coppery colored 
and bluish gleams now playing almost con- 
stantly about him ; and this singular situation 
conjured up all sorts of strange fancies. 

Now the wind was buffeting the Nieuport 
wildly about, tearing against the fuselage and 
planes in heavy gusts. 

But at last Don Hale’s heart was gladdened 
by the sight of a circular patch of misty light ; 
and presently shooting through a ragged open- 
ing in the clouds he saw the illumination 
spreading out on every side and caught a 
glimpse of blue in the great expanse above. 
Probably the most inspiring thing he had 
ever seen, it lifted a load from his mind. As 
the shadows produced a depressing effect, so 
the light seemed to radiate optimism and 
cheer. 


212 


Don Hale 

Presently the flying Nieuport carried him 
to another world equally as strange as the one 
through which he had just passed. Just be- 
low him, to the limits of vision, there ex- 
tended, like a soft and moving blanket, the 
billowing forms of the wind-swept clouds. 

And skimming across their surface was the 
grotesquely-shaped shadow of the speeding 
aeroplane. 

Then it suddenly occurred to Don that his 
situation wasn’t so very much improved after 
all. During the m^l6e and his subsequent 
experiences he had totally lost track of his 
bearings. In which direction was the avia^ 
tion camp? That was a question he could not 
begin to answer. One thing alone cheered 
him — he was, at least, headed for the French 
lines. 

And while debating in his mind how soon 
he might dare to make a plunge through the 
vapor he happened to glance behind him. 
And that single glance was the means of caus- 
ing him to make a discovery — a discovery 
that was so startling, so terrifying that the 
blood seemed to almost freeze in his veins. 

Bearing down upon him, and almost within 


With the Flying Squadron 213 

firing range, were two great Albatross planes 
— both of a scarlet hue. 

There could be no doubt about it — they be- 
longed to Captain Baron Von Richtofen^s Red 
Squadron of Death. 


CHAPTER XVI 


THE EMPTY HOUSE 

During the afternoon of the same day that 
Don Hale was destined to have his great ad- 
ventures George Glenn and Bobby Dunlap, 
off duty, decided to take a little jaunt about 
the surrounding country. 

Leaving the main highway the boys struck 
off toward the southeast. 

The road sometimes took them past stuc- 
coed walls, gray, chipped and broken by the 
ravages of time ; and here and there, rising 
high above the faded red coping, were the tall 
and graceful poplars so characteristic of the 
landscapes. Once in a while, the two, their 
youthful curiosity aroused, peeped between 
the bars of the entrance gates to get a look, if 
they could, at the mansion so secluded from 
public gaze. 

Presently the boys were descending a steep 
road which led down to a little village at the 
2U 


With the Flying Squadron 215 

base. Occasionally, between the trees, they 
caught glimpses of red-roofed houses, and the 
spire of an ancient church, all serenely beau- 
tiful in the midst of a peaceful landscape. 

Now George and Bobby came across poilus 
resting on either side of the highway. And 
" then, to bring the grimness of warfare once 
more to their minds, a Red Cross ambulance, 
leaving behind it a long trail of yellowish 
dust, rumbled up the hill, carrying its load of 
wounded to the base hospital further to the 
rear. 

Arriving at the bottom of the incline the 
two found themselves on a road which turned 
abruptly. Soldiers were billeted in the vil- 
lage ; and in the courtyards and out on the 
streets were rolling kitchens, while parked at 
various points they saw huge camions await- 
ing their turn to carry supplies toward the 
front. Evidently but few of the inhabitants 
remained ; and the reason was at once appar- 
ent — there was scarcely a house which did not 
show some evidence of scorching shell fire or 
the devastation caused by bombs dropped 
from the air. 

George and Bobby soon passed the quaint 


2i6 


Don Hale 


old church, no longer a place of worship but a 
hospital, and continued on, soon leaving be- 
hind them the village, with its soldiers, 
camions and other paraphernalia of war. 

“ Now let's take a rest," suggested Bobby, 
at length. 

** You'll not hear any objections from me," 
said George. He turned his gaze toward the 
east, adding : I hope to goodness Don doesn't 
run into trouble over the front to-day." 

“ I'm with you there, Georgie," said Peur 
Jamais, gravely. ** I never saw such im- 
polite fellows as those Boches. Just the other 
day one of them chased me for miles, and all 
I did was to empty a belt of cartridges in his 
direction. Honestly, I believe he wanted to 
hurt me." 

" I guess you're about right," laughed 
George. 

Hello I just cast your eyes along the road. 
But do it gently, though, so as not to hurt 
them. Do you see that chap yonder — about 
to cross ? " 

My vision being extremely good, I can." 

“ Don't you see anything familiar about 
him?" 


With the Flying Squadron 217 

George, after taking a long and earnest 
look at the blue bloused figure, nodded his 
head. 

“ Yes ; to be sure. It's the peasant who's 
been visiting our escadrille." 

Correct, old chap. And say, did you ever 
notice how chummy he's gotten to be with 
Jason Hamlin ? Funny combination, that — 
a college highbrow and an humble, down- 
trodden tiller of the soil. By the way, Vicky 
Gilbert certainly has said some funny things 
to Jasy." 

Have you found out yet what the scrap is 
all about? " 

Peur Jamais pondered an instant before 
replying, and then said, slowly : 

From what Vicky said it looks as if he 

thought Hamlin was, or rather wasn't 

No, that he was, I should say " And 

here the young combat pilot broke off ab- 
ruptly, to further remark, after a few moments 
of earnest reflection : No — I reckon I'd bet- 
ter wait until further developments. One 
day I happened to say a few words to one of 
the chaps about it when along waltzed the 
captain, who had overheard ; and he said to 


2i8 


Don Hale 


me; ^What do you mean?' Crickets I It 
was awful I " Bobby began to grin broadly. 

It reminded me of the time I used to get 
hauled up in the principal's room to explain 
certain things that had happened in the class- 
room. But, I say ; let's skip after the old 
boy, and interview him." 

“ What's the good? " asked George. 

None at all. But what's the good of 
staying here ? Coming ? " 

First tell me what the captain said." 

** ‘ No I — a thousand times no I ' as the per- 
secuted heroine in the play has it. Later on 
— perhaps. Just now my sole desire in life is 
to inflict some of my French upon the humble 
plodder." 

Without further ado, Peur Jamais started 
off and George, with a good-humored smile, 
followed. 

It took the boys but a few moments to 
reach the road where the peasant had been 
observed ; but although he had been walking 
very slowly the man was not in sight. The 
road was as deserted as a road could be. 

" Hello I That's rather odd I " cried Peur 
Jamais. shabby way to treat a couple 


With the Flying Squadron 219 

of would-be interviewers, I call it. In classic 
language, I wonder where he’s at 1 ” 

^‘That oughtn’t to be a hard job for Sher- 
lock Holmes the Second to find out,” sug- 
gested George. 

Bobby laughed and began studying the 
surroundings with keen attention. 

In the fields were growing crops, all bathed 
in bright, clear sunshine. Little clumps of 
trees and patches of woods dotted the land- 
scape, while, far off, the irregular contour of 
the hills limned itself with hazy indistinct- 
ness against the brilliant sky. To the left a 
touch of blue, like a bold splash of paint upon 
canvas, indicated a pond, and nearer at hand 
rose three sturdy oaks, majestic specimens of 
their kind. Just behind these Peur Jamais 
espied a house. 

“ I shouldn’t wonder a bit if that’s the 
peasant’s castle,” he remarked. Suppose 
we journey over there, Georgie, and see ! I 
declare I I won’t be satisfied until I learn a 
bit more about him. It’s a little odd that 
such an uncouth specimen should take so 
much interest in an aviation camp.” 

** Mild adventures, after our strenuous ones, 


220 


Don Hale 


have a sort of appeal to me,’^ confessed 
George. So I’m quite willing.” 

Following the road for a short distance the 
boys found a narrow path leading across the 
field ; so they headed for the ancient oaks and 
the house behind them. 

They had expected to see some evidences of 
farming, some indications of laborers in the 
fields beyond, but on arriving at the struc- 
ture, a typical old farmhouse, everything wore 
a mournful and deserted air, as though all 
human activity and endeavor had long ago 
departed, leaving the building to crumble and 
decay. 

‘‘ It seems that we’ve had all our pleasure 
for nothing,” grumbled Peur Jamais. No- 
body can be living in this old shack. But as 
a deserted house is anybody’s home, I’m going 
in.” 

” I’ll share the danger with you,” laughed 
George. 

The door stood invitingly ajar, and one 
vigorous push sent it creaking back on a pair 
of rusty hinges. 

All the dreary and forlorn appearance 
which marked the exterior of the ancient 


221 


With the Flying Squadron 

farmhouse was to be met with in the interior. 
Dust lay thick on the floors, and a few pieces 
of broken-down furniture added their quota to 
the depressing atmosphere. 

“ This place is enough to give a fellow the 
creeps I declared Bobby. ^‘Just imagine 
how nice it would be strolling around here on 
a stormy midnight, with lightning the only 
illumination. Hello I — goodness gracious I 

A very unexpected interruption had caused 
Peur Jamais to utter the exclamation. 

Quick footsteps had sounded. And, as both 
boys, a little startled, but more surprised, 
hastily glanced at an open doorway leading to 
another room, they saw a blue-bloused flgure 
suddenly appear. 

It was the peasant for whom they had been 
seeking. 


CHAPTER XVII 


A MYSTERY 

At another place and under different cir- 
cumstances this meeting would have been a 
most ordinary and commonplace event, but, 
somehow, in the shadowed and deserted farm- 
house it seemed to have imparted to it a curi- 
ously dramatic effect. 

It was Peur Jamais who broke a rather 
intense and awkward silence. 

“ Hello I You are here after all ! he cried. 

‘‘ Ah I So it is some of my young friends, the 
aviateurs Americaines I exclaimed the peas- 
ant. His manner was that of a man who had 
been startled by an unlooked-for intrusion, 
and, in consequence, felt considerably dis- 
pleased. “ In France, mes amis, before enter- 
ing a dwelling one usuall}^ knocks.” 

So we do when we enter a dwelling,” said 
Peur Jamais, airily. But what in the 
world are you doing here? ” 

222 


With the Flying Squadron 223 

** And, may I inquire, what in the world 
are you doing here ? 

We came to see you.'* 

** You came to see me I How did you get 
here ? " 

Thereupon George Glenn, who had a more 
fluent command of French than Bobby, smil- 
ingly explained. 

“ But, you must remember, people cannot 
go everywhere they please without knowing 
that they have the right," said the peasant, 
chidingly. 

Well, since we're here we're here," said 
Peur Jamais. However, Monsieur, you cer- 
tainly can't be staying in a place like this ? " 

** I believe I have not as yet given any in- 
formation as to my place of residence." The 
Frenchman's tone clearly conveyed a hint 
that he was annoyed at the curiosity which 
Bobby displayed. Houses are like men, 
mon ami : they live their allotted time, and 
then their days are done." 

Well, come on, Georgie, let us take a look 
at the old place," cried Peur Jamais. 

And Bobby, with a merry laugh, started 
for the adjoining room. 


224 


Don Hale 


But his passage was unexpectedly blocked. 

The peasant had stepped in front of him, 
saying in a firm tone : 

Must I remind you, my young friend, of 
what I said just a few moments ago? 

Bobby was surprised — so much surprised, 
indeed, that for an instant he stared at the 
peasant without speaking ; and his scrutiny 
was so searching, so earnest, that the man, as 
though finding it either annoying or discon- 
certing, moved toward a shadowy corner of 
the room. 

But what have you got to say about it ? 
blurted out Peur Jamais, at length. “ It 
isnT your house ; so Vd like to know why we 
maynT go up-stairs ? 

Like good soldiers, we must sometimes 
obey commands without knowing the reasons 
for their being given,” said the peasant, 
gravely. “ So I am sure you will consider 
me neither impolite nor unobliging if I 
refrain from speaking further on the sub- 
ject” 

“ Certainly, Monsieur,” put in George, 
quickly. We have no wish to intrude. 
Come on, Bobby.” 


With the Flying Squadron 225 

Peur Jamais, however, his face wearing 
a rather curious expression, began to interro- 
gate the Frenchman, beginning with this 
rather unusual question : 

What's the best time to plant potatoes? " 

The peasant smiled genially. 

“ Are you thinking of starting a farm ? " 
he queried. 

No ; I am merely a seeker after informa- 
tion." 

** Then I would advise you to buy a copy of 
some agricultural paper which treats such 
questions exhaustively. And now, if you will 
pardon me, I will say au revoir ! " 

No objections, I'm sure I " grumbled 
Bobby. I hope your farm prospers. It's 
quite a hard life, isn't it? " 

That depends upon a man's health, 
strength and temperament," countered the 
peasant, in an unruffled tone. “ Good- 
bye I " 

He laid just enough emphasis on the last 
words to cause the boys to nod and then walk 
slowly outside. 

They had progressed but a few yards when 
Bobby began to laugh and chuckle in a most 


226 


Don Hale 


peculiar manner. Then his face suddenly be- 
came grave and stern. 

“ Georgie, I think I’ve made a discovery — 
quite an astonishing discovery, too,” he ex- 
claimed. ** That man is as much a peasant as 
either you or I. He’s merely a bit of human 
camouflage ; he’s masquerading — do you get 
me ? — masquerading I And what’s the an- 
swer ? ” 

Peur Jamais’ brow was knit. His hands 
were clenched. 

I am willing to admit that just now he 
did not either speak or act exactly like a peas- 
ant,” said George. 

” You’ve said something, Georgie,” declared 
Bobby, very earnestly. “ Listen I ” As they 
walked slowly, side by side, he gripped George 
Glenn’s arm. Ever since that night old 
Pdre Goubain talked to us about spies I’ve 
been keeping my eyes and ears open. Well, 
do you want to know what I think the an- 
swer is ? — that mysterious peasant is a spy — 
yes sir, a confounded spy. Why has he been 
nosing around the aviation camp ? Why 
didn’t he want us to go up-stairs? Oh yes, 
it’s all as clear as day. Who knows — it may 


With the Flying Squadron 227 

even have been he who was the means of send- 
ing those bombing machines to spill a little 
fireworks on the camp I 

By this time the two had reached the road, 
and Bobby stopped and leaned against the 
fence. 

“ It strikes me that this hasn^t been such a 
mild adventure, after all,*' he continued, with 
increasing vehemence. ** And through it we 
may be the means of ridding Trance of a dan- 
gerous enemy; just think of it — you and I, 
Georgiel I can almost hear the commander 
saying : * My brave and loyal friends, in the 
name of my countrymen, I thank you I * " 

** Can you also see the medals pinned to our 
manly breasts ? ” asked the other, quizzically. 

‘*I*m not joking, Georgie." 

‘^I'm sure you're not. You look just as 
earnest as if Captain Von Richtofen and his 
red planes had come over to pay us their re- 
spects." 

Peur Jamais sniffed. 

At any rate it isn't going to be a laughing 
matter for some one," he asserted, grimly. 

Pretty smart old chap, that I ‘ Buy a copy 
of some agricultural paper,' eh I No doubt 


228 


Don Hale 


he^s chuckling now at the way he pulled off 
those evasive answers. But evasions don't go 
with court martials." 

You are certainly correct there,” ac- 
quiesced his companion. 

** By George, Georgie, you're an aggravating 
chap I '' exploded Bobby. By the way you 
act one might think that this great discovery 
was of no more importance than reading an 
agricultural paper. Wake up I You're right 
here on earth, and not up among the clouds I '' 

‘‘ I'm trying to do a little discreet thinking 
before indulging in any indiscreet remarks,'' 
said George. “ You know, as Longfellow 
says : * Things are not always what they 
seem.' '' 

Well, I declare I Indiscreet talking, in- 
deed I '' almost shouted Peur Jamais. I sup- 
pose your idea is t@ let the old bird alone, 
eh?'' 

“ As yet, I haven't a very clear idea of 
what my idea on the subject is,” returned 
George, with a smile. 

“ And I have such a clear idea of what my 
idea is that it fairly dazzles me. Great Julius 
Csesar I ” 


With the Flying Squadron 229 

Peur Jamais blurted out this exclama- 
tion with considerable force, and as he cer- 
tainly could have neither seen nor heard 
anything to justify its utterance George very 
naturally demanded an explanation. 

** Oh, it’s nothing that would be likely to 
interest you,’' returned Bobby, sarcastically. 

Some rather odd thoughts about Jason 
Hamlin just happened to pop into my mind.” 
And then, as though ruminating to himself, 
he added : Oh, yes, I’m mighty glad we 
took this walk. It may have an astonishing 
sequel.” 

George pressed him for an explanation, but 
Bobby merely replied : 

One of these days you’ll find out.” 

“But just think of all the suspense I’ll 
have to endure,” said George, lightly. 

Thereupon the march was resumed. 

And notwithstanding the fact that both 
boys were in the uniform of the flying corps 
they were occasionally obliged by the ever- 
vigilant sentries to show their credentials. 

It was after one of these experiences that 
Bobby thoughtfully remarked : 

“ I can’t understand how, with all their 


care, that old would-be peasant was able to 
pull off the trick/' 

What trick ? " asked George, innocently. 

‘‘ Trying to kid me, eh ? " jeered Peur 
Jamais. But I’m the original kid that 
can’t be kidded.” 

Toward late afternoon, seeing that a storm 
was approaching, the two took counsel and 
decided that it might be better to retrace their 
steps. 

‘‘I prefer my shower baths taken in the 
regular way,” remarked Bobby. By the 
looks of it, I should say the weather is going 
from bad to worse.” 

“ And we’ll have to move quickly if we ex- 
pect to escape it,” commented the other. 

During the entire trip George had many 
times felt twinges of anxiety in regard to his 
chum Don Hale, which he found quite impos- 
sible to cast aside. Acting as an escort over a 
hostile territory was a very dangerous thing 
for a new pilot to undertake. He could re- 
call many men who had failed to return from 
such journeys, some of whom were probably 
languishing in a German detention camp. 

Quite a number of the Lafayette Escadrille 


With the Flying Squadron 231 

were at the villa when the boys arrived. But 
George Glenn found that he was unable to 
join in the general fun and jollity. 

The storm was very severe indeed ; and 
during its height George, unable to bear the 
suspense any longer, went to the telephone 
and called up the bureau on the aviation 
grounds. 

“ Hello I Is Don Hale there? he asked. 

A pang shot through him as the answer 
came back : 

** No ; neither he nor Albert returned with 
the rest of the escort.^' 

** Did not return with the rest of the es- 
cort I ” gasped George. He felt a peculiar 
dryness come into his throat and into his 
heart a sinking feeling. ** Were the escorting 
machines attacked ? he asked. 

** Yes ; there was a lively scrimmage.*^ 

** Great Scott I This is terrible I mur- 
mured George. Then, speaking into the trans- 
mitter again, he asked, weakly : “Have you 
no news of them at all ? 

“ None whatever,'' came the response. “ We 
have telephoned to the observation post at 
the front, but they can tell us nothing. Hale, 


232 


Don Hale 


however, has been given credit for preventing 
the destruction of the Caudron machine/' 

By this time several others were crowding 
around. All had become accustomed to 
tragic happenings and the occasional disap- 
pearance of some of their members ; yet every 
fresh event of the kind brought with it the 
same distressing pangs. 

** This is bad news, indeed I " exclaimed 
Victor Gilbert. Poor Don Hale I Poor 
Albert I I wonder — I do wonder what could 
have happened to them 1 " 

** I hope it will not be the official commu- 
nique that tells us," said George, gloomily, as 
he replaced the telephone on the hook. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


THE RED SQUADRON 

When Don Hale saw the red planes of Cap- 
tain Baron Von Richtofen behind him he 
certainly received the shock of his life. The 
oncoming storm, the sense of solitude and 
the great expanse above the clouds had all 
lulled him into a sense of security. 

A moment^s indecision nearly finished his 
career as a combat pilot. Streams of bullets 
were flashing past, and one of them, crashing 
through the little curved wind shield in front 
of his head, brought him to a realization that 
only the quickest possible action could save 
his life. 

He did then what many a flying fighter 
had done before him. A quick movement of 
the control lever dipped the rear ailerons, 
sending the plane almost vertically downward 
toward the earth. With the engine stopped, 
he tipped to one side, and the machine entered 
the vrille, or spinning nose dive. 

233 


234 


Don Hale 


With frightful velocity, turning on its axis, 
the Nieuport dove through the agitated storm- 
clouds. The wind roared past him as it had 
never roared before, singing and moaning, 
like the strains of some wild, weird symphony 
as it beat against the planers wires and sup- 
ports. Gasping for breath, almost dazed by 
the fearful whirling motion, the boy, never- 
theless, felt the joy of triumph surging within 
him. He had cheated the birds of ill-omen 
of their prey. He could laugh at their efforts. 
They would never catch him now that he 
knew of their presence in the sky. 

Down, down shot the little biplane through 
an obscurity so dense that nothing could be 
seen in any direction. And soon, while still 
surrounded by the heavy vapors, it straight- 
ened out parallel to the earth, and, shaken 
and rocked by the wind, sailed swiftly 
ahead. 

But at that instant, just as all danger seemed 
to be passed, Don Hale made another most 
alarming discovery — something had happened 
to his motor, and though he strove with the 
utmost desperation to get it started it persist- 
ently refused to work. 


With the Flying Squadron 235 

Tough luck I ” he burst out, aloud. ** This 
is the worst ever I Here I am miles over 
German territory.^^ 

Filled with apprehension, with all sorts of 
dreadful fancies running through his mind, 
and the dread and uncertainty of it all mak- 
ing his nerves tremble and twitch, the young 
combat pilot volplaned through the clouds. 

Presently he skimmed through the thinner 
mists, and saw the darkened and sombre- 
looking earth beneath him. His head was 
still aching from the effects of the headlong 
plunge. His breath, too, came in short and 
painful gasps. But all these physical mani- 
festations were almost unnoticed in the pilot’s 
excited state of mind. 

Was there nothing that he could do to avert 
the fate for which he seemed destined ? 

There must be. Surely his career as a com- 
bat pilot was not going to come to such an in- 
glorious end I 

Feverishly — energetically, Don Hale con- 
tinued to manipulate the levers that controlled 
his motor. But there was no sign of it 
awakening into life. And all the while he 
was gliding nearer and nearer the earth. 


Don Hale 


236 

Now the vague, indefinite blurs of color were 
becoming definite forms and shapes, and the 
meaningless patches of light and dark houses 
and trees. 

Sick at heart, feeling that everything was 
lost, with the direst fear of an impending 
tragedy uppermost in his mind, the boy at 
length sat back in his seat, and, for the first 
time, paid close attention to the ground that 
seemed to be rapidly rising to meet him. 

He had concluded that in the all-pervading 
gloom the Germans had not discovered his 
presence, but almost immediately the anti-air- 
craft batteries got into action and the sur- 
rounding air became suddenly filled with ex- 
ploding shrapnel shells. 

Now he could hear their viciously-sounding 
detonations, and the steady crackling of the 
guns which had sent them aloft. 

Though faint and weak, the instinct of 
self-preservation asserted itself, enabling him 
to turn the machine this way and that, in an 
effort to dodge the hail of missiles. The 
Nieuport was wildly careening from side to 
side or dropping short distances at lightning 
speed ; and, to add to his dismay, streams of 


With the Flying Squadron 237 

flaming onions,” like rockets of a greenish 
hue, darted toward the helpless airplane, 
sparkling brightly in the darkened atmos- 
phere. 

Yet, despite the terrible reality of the situa- 
tion, it seemed to Don that he was going 
through some strange, weird dream. Dumbly, 
he wondered how soon the end would come. 
Only a miracle, it seemed, had saved him 
thus far. He could not expect such good- 
fortune to continue. He seemed to stand on 
the dividing line between life and eternity. 

And when a strange, inexplicable calmness 
had taken possession of him and he felt re- 
signed to the impending fate, the resounding 
din of the batteries below and the ear-splitting, 
appalling detonations of the shells suddenly 
ceased, and he was gliding through the smoke- 
fllled air as unmolested as though on his own 
side of the line. 

What did it mean ? 

The explanation was simple. The Germans 
below had at last realized the truth. They 
were merely waiting for the machine to drop 
into their midst. It was a galling thought. 
Not three hundred feet below he could see 


Don Hale 


238 

them. And that picture of men gathering 
together in groups, of men running and ges- 
ticulating, made a curious impression upon his 
overwrought brain. 

Many a time he had heard the boys jocosely 
referring to the words Kamerad, kamerad,^^ 
and for the first time he was in a position to 
realize fully what that cry must have meant 
to some of those who uttered it. And after 
the glorious, boundless freedom of the air — 
of the vast spaces — how could he stand the 
horrors of a detention camp, where men, 
penned in like sheep, were guarded and fed 
almost as if they were so many captured ani- 
mals I 

Now he was one hundred feet nearer the 
earth — one hundred feet nearer the clutch of 
his enemies — and, with the smoothness of 
a toboggan, the machine was still gliding 
downward. Yes, the journey would soon be 
over I He began to think of what the boys of 
the escadrille would say. In his mind he 
pictured them sitting around the supper table, 
speculating as to his unhappy fate. 

How strange — how remarkable it seemed to 
be right there among the enemy I Still held 


With the Flying Squadron 239 

in the grip of an unnatural calmness, he gazed 
indifferently at those gray-clad figures whose 
upturned eyes were fastened upon the de- 
scending machine. 

Now only seventy-five feet separated him 
from the ground. He would be glad when all 
was over. 

There won't even be any chance to set fire 
to the machine," he groaned, aloud. “ The 
Germans will capture it intact. And who 
knows to what use the crafty Bodies may 
put it 1 But they'll hear no ‘ Kamerad, 
kamerad I ' from me." 

Suddenly a revulsion of feeling swept over 
the boy. The sight of the Germans crowding 
around seemed to fill him with an anger he 
could not repress. He gritted his teeth and 
clenched his fists in impotent wrath. And 
with this fierce rebellion against the cruel fate 
that awaited him his thoughts flashed back 
to Captain Baron Von Richtofen and his scar- 
let planes. How little he had thought when 
hearing about them in the Caf6 Rochambeau 
that that selfsame Squadron of Death was 
destined to play a part in his own career I 

For hardly a moment had Don ceased his 


240 


Don Hale 


efforts to get the engine running, and though 
it seemed useless — a futile task — he renewed 
them once again. And just as he was about 
concluding that nothing remained to be done 
but make a landing on a field toward which 
he had been heading, his ears caught a sound 
which fairly electrified him. 

At last ! ” he gasped. 

With a preliminary cough, one of the cylin- 
ders of the motor started to work. Could it 
actually be possible ? 

A fierce, wild hope, painful in its intensity, 
seized upon Don Hale. It was an agonizing 
moment — a moment in which he suffered all 
the torture of a mind agitated by the most 
violent conflict between hope and fear. 

And while the combat pilot was vaguely 
wondering if he had received just another 
cruel stab the old familiar, deafening roar, 
with startling abruptness, began to resound. 

Uttering a shrill whoop of joy, Don Hale 
sent the Nieuport upward. 

No music composed by the world^s greatest 
masters could have sounded more sweet to 
him than the steady reverberations of the en- 
gine. It still seemed unbelievable — some- 


With the Flying Squadron 241 

thing that could not be. All the joys of a 
man who, having given up hope, is unex- 
pectedly granted a reprieve were his, as the 
airplane buffeted its way against the teeth of 
the ever-freshening wind. 

The disappointed Germans immediately 
sprang to the attack, and the little Nieuport 
was running the gauntlet of rifle and revolver 
fire. Fast as it flew, the bullets sped faster, 
and though the combat pilot could not hear 
their wicked hum and zip he knew that 
leaden missiles were flashing all about him, 
for several holes again appeared in the upper 
plane. 

Can I make it I Can I make it I ” he kept 
repeating. 

Sometimes that wild race against such 
heavy odds seemed hopeless. He dared not 
rise too high, for that would give the anti- 
aircraft gunners a chance of bringing him 
crashing down to the earth. True it was, 
that many of the infantrymen seemed so 
paralyzed with astonishment at the sight of a 
wildly-speeding Nieuport right over their 
heads as to forget to fire. 

As moment succeeded moment, and Don 


242 


Don Hale 


Hale remained unscathed, he peered cautiously 
over the side of the cockpit. Now he was fly- 
ing above a little village fairly swarming with 
the troops of the Kaiser. He could see the 
heavy camions rumbling through the streets 
and all the sights typical of military operations 
which he had observed on the opposite side 
of the trenches. 

The thumping of his heart having in a 
measure subsided, and the chilling tremors 
almost disappeared, he found this flying over 
the enemy’s country, in spite of the bullets 
that continually sped toward him, a strangely 
fascinating game. 

The little village was presently left far to 
the rear, and the speeding plane was again 
over the open country, .with its whitish roads 
and green fields dotted here and there with 
farms and houses. 

All at once he saw something in the dis- 
tance which caused him to turn his plane in a 
northwesterly direction. It was a faintish, 
elongated yellowish spot suggestive of a giant 
caterpillar, lying close to the ground. 

“ A balloon — an observation balloon which 
has just been pulled down I ” cried Don Hale 


With the Flying Squadron 243 

to himself. ** 111 get a closer look at it. 
Great Scott I ” 

From some totally unexpected quarter he 
was once again being fired at, and a sharp 
metallic ring told him that some portion of 
his engine had been struck by one of the 
marksmen below. 

Once more he passed through an instant of 
overwhelming anxiety. 

But the steady droning roar of the powerful 
engine brought cheer to his heart. 

No — no ; not yet I he muttered. ** I still 
have a chance to cheat the Boches."' 

The thrilling adventures and narrow es- 
capes through which Don Hale had passed 
instead of lessening his courage and determi- 
nation had increased them, though he fully 
realized how strangely the elements of chance 
had favored him. That sharp ping of the 
bullet striking the engine acted on his nature 
like a spark applied to gunpowder, arousing 
all his combativeness. 

As the plane neared the giant observation 
balloon a sudden and daring idea flashed into 
the young combat pilot's mind, and then, 
almost for the first time, he thought of the 


244 


Don Hale 


part he had played in preventing the destruc- 
tion of the photographic machine. Why 
couldn't he add another feat to his credit? 

‘‘ By George, I'll make a good try I " he 
cried, his pulse beginning to tingle anew. 

The Nieuport was now almost upon the 
huge, unwieldy monster, and Don could 
plainly see the details on its smooth and shin- 
ing surface. 

The balloon, anchored to a heavy motor 
tractor, swayed gently from side to side as the 
cable to which it was attached was drawn 
down by a windlass. Dozens of men, too, 
were aiding in its descent by pulling on 
smaller ropes. 

A touch on the control stick sent the 
Nieuport climbing upward. Then, precisely 
at the proper moment, Don Hale put an end 
to the ascending flight, and turning the nose 
of the machine downward, he shut off the en- 
gine and dove straight for the great gas bag. 

He had a vision of soldiers scattering in 
every direction — and they ran like men who 
were seized with all the mad and unreasoning 
panic of animals fleeing before a forest Are. 
There was something ludicrous — almost ab- 


With the Flying Squadron 245 

surd — in the picture they made which, even 
in that intensely dramatic moment, involun- 
tarily brought a half smile to the face of the 
stern, grim-visaged boy in the pilot^s seat. 

Don Hale knew that he was running a 
most appalling risk — indeed tempting fate in 
a way he had never done before, and staking 
his life upon his ability to make a success of 
his daring venture. 

The instant for action had come. His ma- 
chine was pointed directly toward the slick, 
rounded surface of the balloon. 

It made a most alluring target. 

Don pushed a button, and by this action 
fired the eight rockets fastened to the sides of 
the fuselage. 

Instantly there came a resounding, awe- 
some roar, and eight fiery trails, each headed 
by a brilliant greenish light, were hashing 
toward the balloon. 

Before the pilot could come out of his dive 
several of the rockets pierced the silken en- 
velope, and from as many points there came 
vivid bursts of fiame — the days of usefulness 
of that particular sausage were certainly 
over. 


Don Hale 


246 

Elation was in Don Hale’s heart. And 
then, just as he redressed^ the machine, he 
caught a quick glimpse of a mighty burst of 
flame, which, enveloping the balloon from 
end to end, rose in ruddy viciously-curling 
and leaping tongues high in the air. In a 
moment the Nieuport had passed far be- 
yond. 

Casting a look over his shoulder Don 
saw an extraordinary spectacle — masses of 
flaming gas swept off by the breeze and illu- 
minating the surrounding gloom. 

Triumphant — proud indeed, the boy de- 
cided to take no more risks, but make straight 
for the aviation ground, and, if good fortune 
still held sway, perhaps reach it before the 
rapidly gathering storm had burst in all its 
fury. 

Notwithstanding the whirl of excitement, 
the young pilot had vaguely impressed upon 
his mind the disturbing truth that the light- 
ning was steadily growing brighter — the re- 
verberations of thunder heavier. To handle 
the Nieuport successfully in the wind and 
rain he knew would be a most difficult task. 


* Kedressed — Straightened out. 


With the Flying Squadron 247 

The boy began to feel, now, the inevitable re- 
action. 

He was seized with a consuming anxiety to 
be away from the midst of danger. But the 
rushing currents of air being dead against 
the Nieuport it seemed to be just crawling 
along. 

For the first time the pilot dared to rise 
higher. He was passing over one of those 
desolate stretches which told most eloquently 
of the terrible conflicts which had taken 
place. Everywhere great shell-holes, in places 
overlapping one another, pitted the earth, and 
the bottoms of many were partly filled with 
muddy water left by recent rains. Of all the 
desolate, depressing sights which the eyes of 
man could look upon this seemed one of the 
worst. It was as though a blight had de- 
scended upon the earth, to wither and destroy 
everything which lay in its sinister path. Not 
a village — not a house remained ; all were in 
crumbling ruins. Even the streets them- 
selves could not be traced ; and of the trees 
and patches of woods there remained but 
grotesque, gaunt trunks, entirely stripped of 
branches and leaves. 


Don Hale 


248 

Of course this was not a new sight to the 
boy, and, under the circumstances, he paid 
but little attention to it. Thoughts of the 
trenches over which he must pass, and of the 
flying Archies ” the plane would be sure to 
encounter were in his mind. He must ascend 
still higher. 

“ This has been a trip, sure enough I ** mut- 
tered Don. ** But if I get through safely I'll 
never regret it. To-day, I feel that I have 
done my bit for the Allied cause." 

Continually, he glanced in all directions. 
Vigilance was the price of life. Many an air- 
man had been stealthily approached from 
behind and brought down without ever know- 
ing what had struck him, and in the gloomy 
shadows cast by the heavy storm-clouds it was 
doubly necessary to search the heavens for 
every sign of the foe. 

But, in spite of all the pilot's extreme care, 
he was destined to make presently another 
discovery — a discovery which once more set 
the blood throbbing in his temples. It was 
the sudden appearance, at about his own alti- 
tude, of another of Captain Baron Von Rich- 
tofen's planes. It had approached danger- 


With the Flying Squadron 249 

ously near, too, before he was aware of its 
presence. 

It took Don Hale an instant to recover his 
wits. One moment he had seemed to be alone 
in the vast expanse, and in the next he was 
confronted by one of the scarlet enemy. 

With lightning velocity the Boche bore 
down upon the Nieuport, and before Don 
Hale could make a move to alter his course 
luminous bullets were cutting a fiery trail 
through the gloom about him. 


CHAPTER XIX 


THE PEKILOUS GAME 

At times, when the gravest dangers 
threaten, the human faculties, in some myste- 
rious way, gain a strength and mastery which 
completely banish terror. Such was the case 
with Don Hale. As quickly as it was hu- 
manly possible to do so, he turned his plane 
so that the engine was between him and the 
showers of bullets. Then, obeying the in- 
junction that self-preservation is the first law 
of nature, he set the Vickers machine gun 
into action. 

And thus began a terrible duel in the air 
just beneath the tossing edges of heavy and 
turbulent masses of vapor. It seemed almost 
certain that one of the machines must be 
quickly sent crashing and hurtling down- 
ward. 

The German pilot was evidently a master 
of his machine, and his evolutions were per- 
250 


With the Flying Squadron 251 

formed with the greatest brilliancy. Don 
Hale had a confused vision of a scarlet ob- 
ject flashing around, above and below him 
with inconceivable rapidity. And he himself, 
in order to avoid the enemy, was obliged to 
execute the most thrilling and daring maneu- 
vers. 

And at every favorable opportunity the 
wicked crackling of the machine guns rang 
out. Each pilot was fighting with that des- 
peration which characterizes a hunted animal, 
brought to bay. To Don Hale it seemed more 
like some thrilling, wonderful sport than an 
actual combat in which defeat might mean 
the end of all things earthly. Scores of tracer 
bullets, leaving for an instant their long, thin 
trails of smoke, sped by him whichever way 
he turned, some passing close to his seat be- 
tween the planes. 

The fight was so fast and furiously con- 
tested that Don felt sure it must come to a 
speedy termination. Every instant he ex- 
pected to see the bullets from his Vickers put 
an end to the battling career of that lone 
member of Captain Baron Von Richtofen^s 
Red Squadron of Death. Yet, extraordinary 


252 


Don Hale 


as it seemed, the enemy plane continued to 
flash and circle about him with dazzling 
speed, — so fast indeed that only a confused 
and blurred vision of its movements was regis- 
tered on Don Haleys brain. Waves of dizzi- 
ness swept over him ; his face was smarting 
and stinging from the terrific rush of air, 
while a touch of air-sickness, a malady which 
sometimes affects even seasoned flyers, was be- 
ginning to threaten him. 

But, notwithstanding, he managed to keep 
a firm grip upon all his faculties. One in- 
stant of panic — one instant of relaxation he 
knew would be enough to bring this strange 
air duel to a dramatic and tragic conclusion. 
His main effort was to keep zigzagging behind 
the enemy's tail, and thus make him waste 
his bullets on the empty air. 

In this he was not always successful. Often 
he found himself facing the sinisterrlooking 
scarlet Albatross, to get instantaneous glimpses 
of its hooded pilot glaring toward him. 

And even in those terrible moments, when 
the machines threatened to crash into one an- 
other, Don Hale could not help thinking what 
an amazing thing it was that he and this man, 


With the Flying Squadron 253 

whom he had never met, whom he had noth- 
ing against, and who, equally, had nothing 
against him, should be fighting desperately, 
with all the ferocity of maddened tigers. 

The combat, which seemed to be long- 
drawn-out but which in reality occupied only 
a very short time, was brought to an end by 
Don Hale. As the German plane, momen- 
tarily occupying an advantageous position, 
dove toward him, firing as it came, the combat 
pilot of the Lafayette Escadrille performed an 
evolution known as the renversement. He 
sent the Nieuport with meteor-like swiftness 
upward, and, while making a partial loop, fly- 
ing head downward, the red Albatross flashed 
beneath him. 

Still defying the laws of gravity, Don Hale 
straightened the course of his plane, so that it 
was flying horizontally in a direction exactly 
opposite to its line of flight at the beginning 
of the evolution. He then cut off the motor 
and operated the ailerons at the sides of the 
planes, which caused the machine to turn over 
sideways in a semicircle, and thus bring it 
back to a natural position. 

The renversement was made with such re- 


254 


Don Hale 


markable swiftness that before the red Alba- 
tross could swing around to renew the attack 
Don was shooting in an upward drive straight 
for the shelter of the clouds. 

Almost like a bullet from a machine gun 
he entered the lower strata and continued to 
climb, safe at last from the enemy who had 
sought to destroy him. But the lightning 
glared brighter than ever ; the thunder rolled 
more ominously. He felt sure that only a 
short distance away the rain was falling in 
torrents. 

Quite naturally, the boy^s brain was in a 
wliirl, but a feeling of thankfulness that after 
encountering so many perils he had escaped 
unscathed predominated. 

Finally emerging from the murky darkness 
into the light above, Don, scanning the heav- 
ens with the most earnest attention, could see 
no signs of other planes. 

Well, I have had all the adventures I wish 
for one day I he soliloquized. Whew I It 
was certainly a series of nightmares I Now 
I'll just stay up here, wait until the storm is 
over, and after that beat it so fast for the air- 
drome that a marmite wouldn’t stand any 


With the Flying Squadron 255 

chance in the race. How wonderful it is to 
be up here in this bright sunshine 1 It seems 
as though I must have drifted into the 
arctic regions by mistake. This is certainly 
great I ** 

It was, indeed, a singular scene upon which 
the combat pilot gazed. The upper surfaces 
of the ever-rolling and tossing clouds, of the 
purest and most dazzling white, like a vast 
field of snow and ice, stretched off to the limits 
of vision. It seemed like a glimpse of an- 
other world — a world of wonderful and im- 
pressive solitude. Not a sign of life could be 
seen in all that great circle. There was noth- 
ing to link one's thoughts with the world be- 
low. 

As before, Don saw the shadow of the wind- 
buffeted plane fantastically skimming over the 
crests of vapor. Very soon vivid lightning 
was flashing from cloud to cloud and the roll- 
ing, booming reverberations of thunder were 
beginning to fill the upper region with solemn 
and awe-inspiring volumes of sound. 

Don felt that he must rise still higher. 
Every gleam filled him with a strange fore- 
boding ; it seemed as though, no matter which 


Don Hale 


256 

way he traveled, there was no possibility of 
escaping the gravest danger. The pilot was 
having difficulty, too, in navigating the Nieu- 
port in the sweeping gusts of wind. Some- 
times it was carried rapidly aloft like a chip 
on a rising wave, to drop, a moment later, with 
a suddenness that almost took away his 
breath. 

His altimeter began to register an increas- 
ing height, and at length the boy, in an icy 
region, was looking down upon far-off masses 
of clouds. 

If the young combat pilot of the Lafayette 
Escadrille had not been so intensely lonely or 
so worn out with excitement and fatigue, he 
would positively have enjoyed the strange and 
unique experience. But now he most ar- 
dently hoped that the fury of the tempest 
would soon abate. 

Over what part of the country was he? 
Perhaps he had gone miles and miles out of 
his course. There was no way to tell. 

And what if anything should happen to 
his engine, as it had done before ? 

Now and again his thoughts involuntarily 
became fixed upon such an eventuality, cans- 


With the Flying Squadron 257 

ing, anew, chilling tremors to sweep through 
his frame. As important, now, as the beating 
of his heart were the pulsations of the motor. 
It filled him with a sense of awe, and his 
keenly-listening ears were attuned to catch 
the slightest change in the never-ceasing roar 
of the engine. 

“ By this time the boys must think I^m a 
goner, he communed to himself, aloud. 
“ Poor George Glenn I 141 bet no one dreams 
that I^m away up here, condemned to sail 
around in great circles until warring nature 
gets over its tempestuous fury. And, oh boy, 
but iPs cold I Even with these heavy gloves, 
my hands are becoming numb. I^m begin- 
ning to realize now just how an icicle feels. 
I don4 know where I am, but I certainly wish 
I were somewhere else I ** 

Time began to drag out interminably. 
Anxiously, he kept glancing down upon that 
glorious, shimmering, white expanse in the 
hope that he might discover signs of the 
clouds beginning to break away — of some 
little ragged opening through which he might 
get a glimpse of the earth. But it always 
presented the same monotonous expanse. 


Don Hale 


258 

“ Not yet ! Not yeti ’’ he sighed. 

Like a rider driving a fractious steed, he 
was obliged to pay the closest attention to the 
navigation of the speedy Nieuport ; and as the 
unruly horse may sometimes take the bit in 
its mouth, defying the will of its master, so 
the airplane, aided and abetted by the gale 
of wind, often gave him cause for the greatest 
anxiety. 

Between the blue heaven above and white 
clouds below, he kept on flying in great 
circles, having in his ears the never-ceasing 
reverberations of the rolling and booming 
thunder. Would it never end I How long 
was he condemned to remain so high aloft? 

The sun, at length, was descending in the 
west and before very long must disappear be- 
hind the distant masses of vapor. More than 
once Don considered tempting fate by a 
descent through the clouds, and each time the 
peril deterred him. How would it be possible 
for the Nieuport to live amidst such a raging 
storm ! . 

“ No, no I I can’t risk it,” muttered Don. 
** By George I Was a human being ever 
placed in such a position before? Just now I 


With the Flying Squadron 259 

can^t say that I want to enjoy the caressing 
touches of those wind-blown clouds on my 
cheek/^ 

Bravely, the boy tried to divert his mind, 
but the physical discomforts, besides the in- 
creasing sense of being out of the world, made 
it quite impossible. The storm had now 
reached its height. Forked tongues of light- 
ning were flashing incessantly in the clouds, 
illuminating the interior of their swiftly-fly- 
ing masses with a weird and spectral bluish 
glare. 

Not yet I Not yet ! sighed Don, again. 

Great Scott I I canT stay up here forever. 
This is certainly a case where a fellow needs a 
friend. Hello I Something besides clouds 
and blue sky at last I 

Far below, just tiny specks, the pilot had 
observed a flock of birds, skimming close to 
the ragged, tossing edges of vapor — so close, 
indeed, that at times they became lost to view 
as it closed about them. 

That sight w^s, indeed, a grateful one to 
the lone occupant of the upper air. He 
turned his machine to watch them, until at 
length they grew faint in the distance, then 


26o Don Hale 

became lost to sight, leaving him to feel more 
alone than ever. 

As the sun crept still lower toward the 
horizon, the effects began to change ; the 
arctic whiteness was being replaced by softer 
and more mellow tints ; delicate purplish 
shadows filled the hollows of the clouds, and 
the deep blue of the sky above was slowly 
fading. The scene constantly grew more 
wonderful and impressive. The rays of the 
great coppery-colored ball, at last partly sub- 
merged in the clouds, were tipping the masses 
of flying vapor with an orange glow. Some- 
times their varying forms suggested mountain 
peaks or stretches of rolling hills ; sometimes 
the keenly imaginative Don Hale could see in 
them suggestions of fairy-like cities, with 
minarets sparkling like spots of golden 
flame. 

The knowledge that the day was coming 
to a close made him more and more eager to 
begin his homeward journey. But, with a 
persistency that was exasperating — alarming 
— the storm continued to expend its fury. 
Still there was not a rift — not a sign to give 
him either cheer or hope. 


With the Flying Squadron 261 

And now a new worry — a new apprehension 
began to attack him ; the gasoline was giving 
out. He could not hope to keep up his flights 
much longer. The thought made the blood 
fairly pound in his temples. 

Thrilling as all his adventures had been, 
was fate going to crown them all with one in- 
flnitely more thrilling — inflnitely more dan- 
gerous ? 

The combat pilot shuddered as he pondered 
over the situation. Captain Baron Von Rich- 
tofen's dreaded Squadron of Death seemed 
indeed puny and insignificant when compared 
with the tremendous forces of nature which 
he must eventually face. 

A short reprieve from the terrible danger 
remained. He could not yet bring himself to 
make that great plunge — a plunge where all 
the elements of chance were dead against him 
— where he could expect no mercy — where no 
human power save his own could be avail- 
ing. 

Five minutes passed ; then ten. He dared 
not delay much longer. With a tense and 
drawn face, Don Hale again peered over the 
side of the cockpit, in an effort to discover 


262 Don Hale 

some point where the storm had spent its 
force. 

There was none. 

** It’s as bad as staking one’s life on the flip 
of a coin,” he groaned. Well, here goes I ” 

The boy firmly pursed his lips, operated 
the ailerons by means of the control lever, 
and, next instant, the plane was speeding 
downward. He could see the golden lights 
and purple shadows apparently flashing up to 
meet him ; he could feel the plane, in the 
grip of the stronger currents of air, shivering 
and trembling. 

And then a saying of the French pilots 
came into his mind : The plane fell like a 
dead leaf to the ground.” Was his Nieuport, 
too, destined to ** fall like a dead leaf to the 
ground ” ? 

That question must soon be answered. 

For one brief instant he pulled up the ma- 
chine. During that interval of time, short as 
it was, he had a terrifying vision of a quiver- 
ing, glimmering light which filled the whole 
surrounding air. The appalling boom and 
crash of thunder overwhelmed the sound of 
the motor. He seemed to be sailing just 


With the Flying Squadron 263 

above some frightful inferno resembling noth- 
ing he had ever, before encountered. 

With a sinking feeling at his heart and a 
muttered : Now I the pilot once more 
turned the nose of his machine downward. 

The dreaded plunge was made. 

In a second's time he had left the gold and 
purple of the upper world and was immersed 
in the storm-clouds. As though dipped in an 
icy bath, he felt cold chills running through 
him and running through him again. Flash 
after flash of lightning, blinding in its bluish 
glare, momentarily tore asunder the darkness, 
and he had instantaneous glimpses of phan- 
tom-like masses of vapor and portions of the 
moisture-laden machine gleaming with a 
sharp, metallic light. 

Electricity seemed to be forming all about 
him. He could not rid himself of a terrible 
fear that the machine might get into the path 
of one of those zigzag streaks of flame chas- 
ing each other in every direction. The thun- 
der was cracking like pistol shots multiplied 
a thousand fold. It came, too, in wild, gur- 
gling notes, or in mighty, deafening detona- 
tions that dazed and bewildered the pilot. 


Don Hale 


264 

In the anguish of his soul, he cried out, not 
once but many times : 

I am lost I I am lost I 

And so it really seemed ; for the bravely- 
battling plane, almost shaken to pieces by the 
onrushing wind, was driven first one way and 
then another, or beaten back, threatening at 
every instant to topple over on its back and 
complete the rest of its journey in an uncon- 
trollable spinning dive. 

Don Hale was fairly gasping for breath. 
Every bone in his body ached. His brain 
was dizzy and reeling. But that powerful 
instinct of self-preservation implanted in 
every one prevented him from giving up in 
utter despair, though he fully expected that 
the airy caverns of the clouds would be the last 
thing his eyes were ever destined to look 
upon. 

With teeth gritted together, he fought on, 
matching his wits and brains with the seeth- 
ing, shrieking vortex that toyed with the 
plane and seemed bent upon his destruction. 
And each hard-won victory brought a little 
more hope to his heart and lessened the strain 
on his overwrought nerves. Yet it all ap- 


With the Flying Squadron 265 

peared unreal, unnatural and unearthly — 
like a chaos — nature itself in the grip of an- 
archy. 

But how thick were the clouds ? He could 
not understand why he should be so long im- 
mersed in their humid depths. 

However, when torrents of rain presently 
began thudding and splashing against him he 
realized that he must be approaching the 
lower surfaces. How earnestly he longed for 
the moment to come I Each blinding glare 
of lightning, each mighty peal of thunder 
still had a terrifying effect. He could not rid 
himself of an awful dread that the fates 
would, at last, decide against him. 

Thus, when the Nieuport actually staggered 
through the last strata, the boy almost felt as 
if it was something scarcely to be believed. 
He could not realize that the most terrible 
part of the voyage was over and that as he 
had cheated the Germans in their prey so had 
he cheated the Storm King. 

But dangers were not yet ended. All 
around him extended a curious expanse almost 
as obscure, almost as gloomy and murky as 
that through which he had just passed. And 


266 


Don Hale 


where was he to land ? In what direction lay 
the encampment of the Lafayette Escadrille? 
Don was even in doubt as to whether he had 
gone beyond that devastated strip of ter- 
ritory — No Man's Land." 

“ I reckon there's nothing to do but trust 
to blind luck," he murmured to himself. 
** Ah, old earth — good old earth — I never ap- 
preciated you so much before I " 

Down, still further down glided the Nieu- 
port, while the boy strove to pierce the en- 
shrouding darkness. 

At last the very faintest of blurs brought 
an exclamation of joy to his lips. But as the 
utmost caution was necessary in approaching 
the earth, he began to volplane at an angle 
less steep. It would be the easiest thing in 
the world, he knew, to smash the biplane in 
landing, and thus bring disaster at the jour- 
ney's end. 

But still everything was too indistinguish- 
able, too hidden by the rain and shadows for 
him to gain any idea of the nature of the ter- 
rain. All he could make out were faint and 
mottled grayish patches merging insensibly 
into one another 


With the Flying Squadron 267 

A decision must soon be made. The gaso- 
line was running dangerously low. 

Still nearer the earth, like a storm-tossed 
gull, the Nieuport descended. 

It was only a few hundred feet in the air 
when Don Hale made a discovery that brought 
a hoarse cry from his lips. 

He had seen the faintest possible gleams of 
ruddy color tingeing the gray gloom to the 
west. 

What was that light? What did it mean ? 

With joy surging through his heart, Don 
Hale thought he knew the answer. The light 
came from flares, lighted on the aviation 
grounds, to act as a beacon of safety to belated 
airmen. 

** As sure as I live, that's what it must be I " 
he cried. ** But " A sudden doubt en- 
tered his mind. Does it come from ‘ Ger- 
many ' or France ? " 

The boy felt, however, that to hesitate any 
longer would be foolhardy in the extreme. 
He guided his plane toward the faint light, 
watching it slowly growing stronger with an 
inexpressible feeling of thankfulness and re- 
lief. 


268 


Don Hale 


Very soon he could faintly trace the lines 
of a gigantic letter T, formed by a number of 
fiercely-blazing fires. 

There could be no further doubt ; it was 
certainly an aviation field. 

Only the knowledge that he must keep all 
his faculties alert in order to guide the plane 
prevented the pilot from uttering a series of 
jubilant shouts. 

Now the blazing flares were becoming clear 
and distinct. He could make out the tongues 
of fiame, and the illumination spreading out 
on all sides, to cast a faint, delicate glow for a 
short distance on the water-soaked ground. 
Then he began to detect the presence of human 
beings gathered in little knots or running in 
the direction of the plane. 

Steadying his overtaxed nerves, Don Hale 
skilfully maneuvered his plane, with the rain 
and the wind still beating fiercely against 
him. 

A bright flash of lightning — the brightest 
he had seen since leaving the clouds — sud- 
denly bathed the earth in its vivid glare. 
And that swift transition from almost the 
darkness of night to the brilliancy of noonday 


With the Flying Squadron 269 

brought peace of mind to the young combat 
pilot of the Lafayette Escadrille. What cared 
he now for Captain Baron Von Richtofen and 
his Red Squadron of Death or the loud and 
angry rumbling of his other enemy — the 
Storm King I For there, right below him, 
were the familiar hangars, the familiar fields 
— the headquarters of the escadrille itself. 

And, only fifty feet above the ground, he 
could hear, above the wind, which still played 
its wild symphony on the wires of the ma- 
chine, the welcoming shouts and hurrahs of 
his fellow pilots of the squadron. 

Twenty-five feet — then ten ! And presently 
the rubber-tired wheels jarred against the 
ground, and the Nieuport, traveling a short 
distance, was brought to a stop by the gusts 
of wind that bore down' upon it. 

And that had no sooner happened than 
Don Hale, the happiest boy in the world, was 
lifted out of the machine by his loudly 
felicitating and joyous friends. 

The perilous game had been played and 
won. 


CHAPTER XX 


HAMLIN 

Don Hale was certainly given a tremen- 
dous reception ; and a short time later, while 
comfortably seated in a chair at the villa 
recounting his memorable adventures, was 
highly gratified to hear T. Singleton Albert 
verify his statement concerning the destruc- 
tion of the observation balloon. 

** This is the way it came about,^^ explained 
Drugstore : ‘^During that scrimmage with 
the Boches I happened to see Don^s machine, 
hotly pursued, enter the clouds. And Don 
being rather new at the game, I thought Pd 
try to hang around a bit, so as to keep an eye 
on him if I could. 

'' Bully for you I ” cried Don. Albert, 
you^re a brick I ” 

“ I had a pretty fierce time of it, too, with 
tracer bullets cutting holes through the air all 
270 


With the Flying Squadron 271 

about me, but, after a while, I managed to 
slip away from the attacking planes. By that 
time the scrap was over and the photographic 
machine and its escort were on their way 
home. 

Somehow or other, I don^t know why, I 
had a pretty strong suspicion, Don, that your 
Nieuport wasn^t among them. So, instead of 
making for the airdrome, I flew back over the 
lines, incidentally saying * how-do-you-do * to 
a number of* Archies ^ and a bushel or two of 
* onions.' I shot up pretty high to avoid be- 
ing shot up myself, and after traveling quite 
a considerable distance began cutting big 
spirals in the air. The clouds were looking 
mighty ominous and threatening, and several 
times yours truly was tempted to beat it, but, 
fortunately, something restrained me. 

** My Nieuport was away up near the ceil- 
ing when, on looking down, I suddenly dis- 
covered a plane which appeared exactly as 
though it was crawling along the ground. 
Through a pair of binoculars I could see the 
circles of red, white and blue on the wing tips. 
Then I volplaned a bit, hoping to make out 
whether it was your machine or not." Albert 


272 


Don Hale 


began to laugh. Yes, I saw the whole shoot- 
ing match, Don ; and the way that big sausage 
began to blaze after your little interview cer- 
tainly tickled my fancy.’^ 

Oh, boy, but wouldn’t I have enjoyed the 
sight ! ” giggled Bobby Dunlap. 

Of course it wasn’t possible for me to tell 
whether it was your plane or not, Don, but 
after seeing the Nieuport begin to climb to a 
higher altitude I concluded to say good-bye to 
^ Germany ’ and streak for the home plate. 

Very -soon it began to rain — rain like the 
dickens, too, and before I got within miles of 
the airdrome my bus was doing everything 
but turning somersaults. Anyway, Don, 
you’ve got a witness to prove that you turned 
the trick.” 

That’s simply great I ” chuckled Don. 
** Some afternoon, eh ? ” 

You bet I ” agreed Drugstore. ** But it cer- 
tainly was a jolly rude jolt to me when I got 
back and found that after all you had not re- 
turned.” 

” Anyway, he’ll have something to talk 
about for the rest of his life,” said George 
Glenn. 


With the Flying Squadron 273 

“ There's no doubt about that/' laughed 
Don. 

The young pilot had by no means recovered 
from the effects of his turbulent experiences. 
Some of the dizziness still remained. His 
nerves occasionally twitched and he experi- 
enced a feeling of physical exhaustion, all the 
more unpleasant because of his boyish fear 
that the others might observe it. 

It had required a considerable effort for 
him to tell his story, and a still greater to 
enter into the general conversation. 

Finally the thunder began to roll less fre- 
quently ; the storm was breaking away. 

Soon afterward one of the mechanics stepped 
into the room to inform Don that his machine 
had been found full of holes. 

Just a little bit more, and it would have 
made a capital piece of mosquito netting, 
Monsieur TAviateur," he declared. 

** If I should happen to see any mosquitoes 
around here so big that they couldn't get 
through such holes I'd sure take that next 
train for home," guffawed Bobby Dunlap. 

And if I'd had a piece of mosquito netting 
manufactured for me by German bullets, I 


Don Hale 


274 

wouldn^t even wait for the train ; I^d start 
running/^ laughed the mechanic. He turned 
to Don. 

“ It’s a great wonder to me, Monsieur, that 
your nose and ears weren’t clipped off.” 

“ I expected more than that to happen,” re- 
turned Don, with a faint smile. 

At length Bobby Dunlap began to tell the 
hero of the afternoon about the mysterious 
peasant. 

“ He’s a German spy, sure as shooting,” he 
whispered. But don’t say anything to the 
boys about it, Donny. George Glenn promised 
me he wouldn’t.” 

Why not explain the matter to the lieu- 
tenant?” asked Don, quite breathlessly. 

Peur Jamais reflected an instant, then shook 
his head. 

‘‘ I intended to at first,” he declared, “ but, 
thinking it over, concluded to wait until I 
could arrest the old bird myself and march 
him over here at the point of a pistol. And, 
oh boy, that is going to make a bigger sensa- 
tion than your cooking the big sausage.” 

But he may slip away,” suggested Don. 

” That idea struck me, too,” commented 


With the Flying Squadron 275 

Peur Jamais, in a troubled tone. ** But 
— he brightened up — it will only mean that 
somebody else is going to do the point-of-the- 
pistol act. Wouldn't it make a dandy movie 
drama, eh? And, just to think, Donny, if it 
hadn't been for old Pere Goubain I might 
never have known what was going on." 
Bobby laughed joyously. Crickets ! I can 
hardly wait for the fireworks to begin." 

In the interest aroused by the story of the 
mysterious peasant, Don almost forgot his 
fatigue. He could not remember ever having 
enjoyed a supper more than he did that even- 
ing ; and the sense of security and freedom 
from all danger as they sat around after the 
meal proved most pleasant and welcome. 

On the following day Don Hale was in his 
Nieuport again, and performed the usual two 
patrols of two hours each over the lines with- 
out meeting with adventures. 

Several weeks passed, and it was a time 
filled with enough narrow escapes and thrill- 
ing incidents to last even an aviator a life- 
time. 

At length Don Hale's day off arrived. Late 
in the afternoon he seated himself comfortably 


Don Hale 


276 

by the window and spent the time in reading 
a book and occasionally joining in the con- 
versation about him. The irrepressible Bobby 
Dunlap was in the room, as was also Jason 
Hamlin. 

Finally the latter rose to his feet and began 
walking toward the door, whereupon Bobby 
blurted out : 

say, Jasy, have you seen the old peasant 

lately 

Hamlin, who was one of those individuals 
who apparently dislike the slightest familiar- 
ity, frowned, remarking briefly : 

Yes ; just the other day.^^ 

** I must say, this particular specimen is 
rather a dull looking old chap until one gets 
to talking to him. Ever been over to his 
place, Hammy ? 

Yes,^’ answered Jason. 

“ So have I," laughed Peur Jamais. “ And 
there^s everything there but what a farm 
ought to have. He must be using some 
method of growing vegetables by wireless. 
By the way, Jason, ever go through that old 
ramshackle house 

“ Only the first floor, responded the other. 


With the Flying Squadron 277 

adding abruptly : Bobby, several times IVe 
overheard you making mysterious observa- 
tions in regard to that particular ‘ specimen,’ 
‘ who is a rather dull looking old chap until 
one gets to talking to him.’ How would you 
like to offer an explanation ? ” 

Bobby’s expression swiftly changed. The 
laughing light left his eyes, and, for an in- 
stant, he looked not only surprised but dis- 
pleased. 

“ So you were in the house ? ” he cried. 
“ Well, what did you find ? ” 

** That the peasant was not altogether what 
he seemed. I heard you also mention Sher- 
lock Holmes, which would naturally suggest 
that you thought of doing a little investigat- 
ing. How about it ? ” 

Bobby scowled quite fiercely. 

Really, Jasy, I’m quite surprised at you,” 
he declared. Did you learn how to eaves- 
drop in a correspondence school or did it just 
come naturally ? ” 

** One doesn’t have to eavesdrop when you’re 
around, Bobby,” returned Hamlin. '' You 
don’t know how to whisper.” 

** Thanks, frightfully,” growled Bobby. 


Don Hale 


278 

“ Some people have ears so keen that they can 
even hear what isn’t intended for them. Run 
outside and play. When I want to tell you 
anything about the old peasant you’ll get it 
first hand. And as I notice you seem to ap- 
preciate his company so much I won’t be im- 
polite enough to make any disparaging re- 
marks about him.” 

“ Some people’s eyes are so sharp they can 
even see what isn’t intended for them,” 
laughed Hamlin. “ However, I won’t avail 
myself of your kind permission to run out 
and play, but will take a walk instead.” 

“ Where? ” asked Bobby. 

It’s a secret, but I’ll tell you. I’m going 
in the direction of my destination. So-long, 
Messieurs. I’ll see you later.” 

And, with a half mocking laugh and a 
wave of his hand, Hamlin disappeared out- 
side. 

I declare, that chap’s about the limit ! ” 
exclaimed Peur Jamais to Don Hale. He 
lowered his voice. ” You noticed, Donny, 
that he didn’t want to tell us where he is go- 
ing. I wonder if ” Bobby paused, looked 

thoughtfully out of the window, scratched the 


With the Flying Squadron 279 

back of his head, then resumed : ** Yes, I’ll 
bet that’s just it I ” 

“ What is ? ” asked Don. 

“ That Jasy’s going over to see the old boy 
now. Say, Don, put up that book, and see 
how near my deduction comes to the truth.” 

** Which means, I suppose, that you’re go- 
ing over there yourself? ” asked Don. 

“ You guessed it the first time. Coming ? ” 

** Having aroused my curiosity so much 
about the mysterious peasant, I think I will,” 
responded Don. It adds a touch of activity 
to a day otherwise full of perfect repose.” 


CHAPTER XXI 


THE AKEEST 

The cheerful glow was fading from the sky 
when Don and Bobby Dunlap started out in 
quest of mild adventure. 

The boys walked leisurely — in fact so lei- 
surely that when Don Hale had his first 
glimpse of the three majestic oaks which con- 
cealed the old farmhouse from view, Venus, 
the evening star, was making its sparkling 
presence known in the bluish-gray firmament. 

“ See here, Donny,'^ almost whispered 
Bobby, I don^t think we ought to make this 
a conventional visit. In our present capacity 
as detectives I feel that we’re justified in using 
any means at all to trap this old codger. 
Let’s steal up and do a little spying ourselves.” 

Just the scheme,”^ approved Don. 

The two started ahead. 

The dreary, deserted aspect of the surround- 
ings, the distant booming of the guns and the 
280 


With the Flying Squadron 281 

nature of the expedition all combined to pro- 
duce a tingling sensation in Don Hale's 
nerves. 

Now they were approaching the great trees, 
and the boy caught his first glimpse of the old 
dilapidated dwelling. In the dim shadows of 
the end of day, with a mystery hovering over 
it, it assumed in his eyes a weird and sinister 
appearance. The gables and chimneys were 
silhouetted crisply against the translucent 
tones of the ever-darkening sky. Don's eyes 
roved over the windows, each a dull and life- 
less patch of dark. Everything gave the im- 
pression of utter desolation. 

I don't believe the mysterious peasant can 
be around just now," he murmured. ** And 
I reckon Bobby's idea in regard to Jason 
Hamlin is altogether wrong." 

Skirting around the old oaks, the two 
reached an open stretch. However, there 
were masses of shrubbery beyond, affording 
excellent places of concealment; so, after a 
moment's reflection, Don and Bobby continued 
straight along, and presently found them- 
selves in the midst of the dense shadows not 
far from the entrance to the house. 


282 


Don Hale 


A few minutes passed, and Don began to 
feel that such a vigil around a deserted house 
had in it something of the absurd and ridicu- 
lous. 

Bobby ** he began. 

** Sh-h-h-h I ” whispered Bobby. < 

Then silence between the two ensued. 

And in all probability it would have re- 
mained unbroken for some time but for the 
sound of human voices suddenly coming from 
the house. They were raised, as though the 
speakers had become engaged in a heated 
argument. 

The watchers were fairly electrified. 

Aha 1 What did I tell you ! blurted out 
Bobby, forgetting caution in his eagerness 
and excitement. I know those voices. 
They belong to Hamlin and the spy.^^ 

The altercation grew louder and more tur- 
bulent, then quieted down, until, finally, the 
quietude was as complete as before. 

I wonder what it all means I murmured 
Don. ** The mystery deepens. Ah I Things 
seem to be developing fast.^^ 

Cautiously, he stepped over to Peur Jamais’ 
side, What’s the next move in the game. 


With the Flying Squadron 283 

Bobby ? ” he inquired, sotto voce — the point- 
of-the-pistol act ? 

Keep still ! commanded Bobby, fiercely. 

I^m trying to hear what they have to say. 
Did you catch any of the words ? 

Not one,^^ answered Don. Then, with a 
muttered exclamation indicative of extreme 
surprise and annoyance, he faced about, 
nudged Bobby in the ribs, and exclaimed in a 
low, suppressed tone : As I live, some one is 
coming along the road. It won't do to stay 
here. We'll be seen." 

And if we get around on the other side 
we’ll most likely be observed by the chaps in 
the house," burst out Peur Jamais. ‘‘ Who 
in the world could have expected anything 
like this ? By George I It must be a veritable 
spies' retreat." 

Somewhat precipitously, Bobby began to 
move around the vegetation, and Don joined 
him a moment later on the opposite side. 

Peering between the leaves, the latter could 
soon make out a shadowy form approaching. 
But the light was too dim for him to see 
whether the man was civilian or soldier. The 
boy's interest was aroused to the highest pitch. 


Don Hale 


284 

What could this man's errand be? Evi- 
dently he must know the mysterious peasant 
and be familiar with the grounds. 

Curious ! Curious I " muttered Don. 

Expectantly — anxiously, he waited until 
the man had passed, then began retracing his 
steps, with Bobby close at his heels. 

When he had resumed his former position, 
the boy, gazing over the top of the branches 
and leaves, was just in time to observe the 
man disappear in the dense shadows of the 
old farmhouse. 

‘‘ Now what do you think of all this? " al- 
most stuttered Bobby. '' Oh, boy, but I feel 
kind of sorry for Jasy, though. This night's 
work may get him into a whole pile of trou- 
ble." 

He was evidently going to add something 
more, but the sound of voices again stopped 
him. They were no longer raised as if in 
anger, yet, nevertheless, the conversation was 
evidently being carried on with the greatest 
seriousness. 

And just about this time the two disciples 
of Sherlock Holmes saw a very dim light ap- 
pear in one of the windows of the first floor, 


With the Flying Squadron 285 

which, flashing in an erratic fashion, rapidly 
grew stronger, as though some one were bring- 
ing a lamp into the room. 

Very soon the last vestige of day had disap- 
peared, and overhead the stars and constella- 
tions were shining and twinkling with that 
wonderful brilliancy which they only pos- 
sess when viewed far from smoke-filled towns. 
The boys no longer feared discovery. Night, 
with all its mystery, all its weirdness and 
majesty, was upon them, and though his fel- 
low pilot was only a few yards away Don 
could no longer distinguish his form. 

Easy in mind, therefore, they were able to 
give their undivided attention to the house. 
Now and again the light was blotted out, as 
figures momentarily passed in front. It was 
all very interesting, invoking in the mind 
thoughts of plots, of mysteries and of the 
machinations of spies. 

‘‘ If we could only hear what they are say- 
ing I groaned Bobby. 

I know a way,^^ declared Don. 

“ How?^^ 

** Dm going to crawl right up beneath the 
window and listen. 


286 


Don Hale 


Bravo, Donny I Vm with you there/^ 

Carefully as the two proceeded, it was im- 
possible, in the darkness, to avoid making 
some noise ; and each time both involuntarily 
halted in their tracks, half expecting to hear 
some one come rushing out of the house to in- 
vestigate. 

Great Scott I 

The young combat pilot could not repress 
this exclamation, and, at the same instant, he 
heard a low whistle coming from the unseen 
Bobby close at hand. 

Both had been caused by a peculiar action 
of one of the occupants of the room. Lamp 
in hand, he had approached the window, and, 
thrusting the feeble light outside, moved it up 
and down and sideways several times. 

Mystified — puzzled, Don Hale felt that any 
further advance under the peculiar circum- 
stances would be entirely too risky, and he 
was about to whisper this opinion to Bobby 
when a very faint sound from the rear caused 
him to turn quickly. A peculiar tingling 
sensation shot through him. Yet he could 
not quite explain the reason why. What was 
it he had heard ? — a footfall ? Or, in the ex- 


With the Flying Squadron 287 

citement, had his imagination been tricked by 
the rustling of the vegetation ? 

In the darkness and mystery of the night 
the unseen often assumes in the imagination 
formidable proportions, carrying with it 
curious, undefinable fears. 

And while Don Hale stood there, irresolute, 
his ears distinctly caught the sound of foot- 
steps. Then followed a sharp, metallic click. 

A stream of whitish light was fantastically 
streaking across the ground toward the boys. 

An involuntary exclamation escaped Don’s 
lips. He felt himself almost shivering. 

But a few paces away stood a man. And, 
clearly, the electric torch which he carried 
was seeking them out. What was the mean- 
ing of it all ? How had they been so unerr- 
ingly tracked ? 

Nearer and nearer came the brilliant white 
rays ; then leaving the ground they shot up- 
ward, wavered forth and back erratically and 
presently fell squarely upon his face. 

“ Make no move. Messieurs I ” exclaimed a 
strong, firm voice. “ You are under arrest I ” 
Under arrest ! ” gasped Don, literally as- 
tounded. ** Who — who are you? ” 


288 


Don Hale 


I don^t — I don't understand I " quavered 
Bobby Dunlap. Rather feebly, sepulchrally 
he echoed Don Hale’s query : ** Who are 
you ? ” 

The white light suddenly described a circle 
in the air, and flashed for one brief, solitary 
instant, upon a silver shield. The man was 
holding his coat open, thus allowing it to be 
seen. 

** What — what does this mean ? ” stuttered 
Peur Jamais, while Don Hale, more surprised, 
more nonplused than he had ever been in his 
life, vainly strove to see the features of the 
mysterious person before them. 

It means that, as a member of the French 
secret service, I am carrying out my orders,” 
came the astonishing rejoinder. ** Let me re- 
peat : you are under arrest.” 

“ But why ? What for ? ” almost exploded 
Bobby, who had found his voice and nerve. 

You have made some extraordinary mis- 
take. Aha ! Now I think I know what it 
means — you’ve got the wrong people, that’s it. 
Those you are seeking are in that house, — in 
that house, do you understand I Quick, now, 
before they get away.” 


With the Flying Squadron 289 

To further increase Bobby’s agitated and 
disturbed state of mind the man uttered a 
gruff laugh, following this with a loud 
whistle. 

Almost instantly, as if in answer, footsteps 
sounded, and, on turning quickly, Don and 
Bobby saw three men just leaving the house ; 
the beams from a swinging lantern carried by 
the foremost now and then throwing weird 
splotches of light upon their forms, one in- 
stant bringing them out in sharp relief, the 
next allowing the darkness to again gather 
them in its folds. 

“ It’s all utterly beyond me,” muttered Don 
Hale, as he viewed the strange little proces- 
sion approaching. 

The man with the lantern was the myste- 
rious peasant. And, strangely enough, he 
showed no more surprise at finding the two 
American aviators so close to his door than if 
such a visit were the most ordinary and com- 
monplace thing in the world. One of those 
accompanying him was Jason Hamlin ; the 
other the boys had never seen before. 

Jason Hamlin was the first to speak. 

” And so we meet under rather peculiar 


290 


Don Hale 


circumstances I he remarked, harshly. ** Let 

me say, Peur Jamais, that 

Let me say something first,’^ interrupted 
Bobby, savagely. ** Do you know what he 
tells us?’^ — he jerked his finger in the direc- 
tion of the man with the electric torch — that 
we are under arrest.^^ 

So am I,^’ exclaimed Hamlin, in a voice 
which shook with suppressed anger. 

You, too, under arrest ! gasped Don. 
‘‘ By Jove, this is certainly a weird night I 
And how about that chap parading around 
in a peasant's blouse and wooden shoes?" 
cried Peur Jamais. ** If any one ought to be 
arrested he's the one." He turned to the secret 
service man. I demand that you take him 

into custody. He's an impostor — a — a " 

" Softly — softly, my young friend," broke 
in the mysterious peasant. ** I deeply regret 
that an unpleasant duty had fallen to my lot, 
particularly as our country has every reason 
to be grateful to America." 

He threw open his thin blue blouse, at the 
same instant raising his lantern. And as the 
yellow light shone on another shield precisely 
similar to the one which adorned the breast 


With the Flying Squadron 291 

of the other man, both Don Hale and Bobby 
Dunlap gave voice to exclamations of the 
greatest surprise and wonderment. 

So you, too, belong to the secret service I ” 
cried Don. 

“ Can — can you beat it I '' came from Bobby, 
weakly. 

I think it would be a rather hard job,'' 
broke in Jason Hamlin. “ And " 

He was interrupted by the third man, 
who had been a silent witness to the proceed- 
ing. 

“ Let me put in a word," he exclaimed, au- 
thoritatively. " I also belong to the secret 
service ; and I wish to say to you young 
Americans that you are at liberty to return to 
the villa — the headquarters of the Lafayette 
Escadrille. Under no circumstances, however, 
are you to leave it until this affair has been 
entirely cleared up. I and my camarades are 
not here to answer questions. Your captain 
has already been notified. Remember, you 
are technically prisoners. This may seem 
harsh, ungrateful, and unappreciative perhaps 
of the work you have done for France, but the 
law knows no sentiment ; it is cold and piti- 


292 


Don Hale 


less. Now you may go/' Addressing his 
compatriots, he added : “ Come, Messieurs."' 

Thereupon the three secret service men, 
with words of adieu, turned toward the 
house. 

** I never was so angry, so wilted with sur- 
prise and disgust in the whole course of my 
life I " fumed Bobby Dunlap. “ Not here to 
answer questions, eh I Never even had the 
politeness to say why we were pinched. It's 
an outrage — that's what it is I " 

“ Prisoners, eh I " remarked Don, with a dry 
laugh. 

“ And the comedy has to have still another 
act ! " broke in Jason Hamlin, ironically. 
“ You are right, Bobby : it is an outrage. 
But what you mean is not exactly what I 
mean." 

And, with this enigmatic remark, the avia- 
tor started to make his way toward the road. 

The two other prisoners " followed. 


X 


CHAPTER XXII 


THE TRIAL 

The Hale-Hamlin-Dunlap case certainly 
created a sensation among the pilots of the 
Lafayette Escadrille — indeed it created a great 
deal more talk than the fact that the Germans 
had begun to paint their battleplanes in colors 
of the most extraordinary and brilliant hue. 

No one could understand the affair ; it ap- 
peared a most unfathomable mystery, and 
especially so when the captain of the squadron 
politely informed Victor Gilbert that he, too, 
was technically a prisoner. 

“ Oh, chains and dungeons ! I suppose, the 
next thing, they'll be arresting the whole 
squadron ! " cried Bobby Dunlap when ap- 
prised of this new and singular development 
in the cause celebre. ** Goodness gracious, but 
I wish that last act would begin ! " 

The patience of the ** prisoners " was not to 
be severely taxed, however ; for, on the fol- 
293 


294 


Don Hale 


lowing morning, they received a summons to 
appear in the reception hall of the villa. 

Entering, they found what appeared to be 
a court about to open its session. Seated on 
one side of a long table was the captain of the 
squadron and a gray-haired military man, a 
lieutenant, as was revealed by his uniform. 
Opposite to them sat the secret service men, 
the former ** peasant scarcely recognizable 
in his civilian’s clothes. Numerous papers of 
an official character were strewn about the 
table, greatly heightening the appearance of a 
court procedure. 

Messieurs,” exclaimed the military man, 
looking up gravely, kindly take seats at the 
table.” 

He looked like a stern old judge as he 
spoke. His eyes were cold and hard, the 
lines on his face grim and set and his closely 
cropped whitish moustache revealed a mouth 
indicating determination and strength of 
character. 

Bobby Dunlap as a rule was not disposed 
to take things seriously, but under the present 
circumstances the silence in the big room, the 
frigid atmosphere, the formality and the grav- 


With the Flying Squadron 295 

ity expressed upon the faces of the military 
men had its effect, making him feel ill at ease, 
uncomfortable and nervous. 

** Messieurs, we are now ready to proceed, 
announced the lieutenant at the head of the 
table. ** Let me affirm in the beginning that 
we have no doubt of your loyalty or devotion 
to the cause which you espouse. At the same 
time I must explain that the military author- 
ities as well as the secret service officials never 
allow the most trivial circumstance to pass 
without the most thorough investigation. In 
numerous cases everything is, of course, found 
to be entirely right, but it may happen that 
the hundredth will turn out otherwise, and 
perhaps that which appeared futile — a waste 
of time — may be revealed, under the search- 
ing light of truth, as a dangerous intrigue of 
our enemies.'' 

** Indeed, most extraordinary cases have 
come to our attention," put in the captain. 

** We will hear Monsieur Robert Dunlap 
first," continued the officer in charge of the 
proceedings. '' Monsieur Dunlap, kindly 
stand up." 

At this, Peur Jamais, whose general appear- 


Don Hale 


296 

ance and manner belied the name bestowed 
upon him by his friends, obeyed. 

The interrogation began. 

** Is it true,” asked the officer, that on 
several occasions you made use of this expres- 
sion in reference to Jason Hamlin : * other 
games are just as dangerous ’ ? ” 

Yes, Monsieur the Lieutenant,” gulped 
Bobby, red and confused. 

“ In using that expression what did you in- 
fer?” 

” Well, I — I — you see ” Peur Jamais, 

finding his tongue getting tangled, abruptly 
paused. Then, having mastered in a measure 
his uncomfortable feelings, he resumed : ” I 
heard Monsieur Victor Gilbert make this ob- 
servation, as well as several others to Mon- 
sieur Hamlin, all seeming to indicate ” 

Bobby halted again ; the fiush on his cheek 
deepened. 

” Continuez, Monsieur,” commanded the 
lieutenant. 

” That — that he might be a German spy,” 
exclaimed Bobby, desperately. ” I heard so 
many stories about the espionage system from 
old PSre Goubain, of the Caf6 Rochambeau, 


With the Flying Squadron 297 

near our training camp, that perhaps I became 
unduly suspicious/^ 

The man whom the boys had formerly 
called the mysterious peasant looked up 
with a smile. 

** With Monsieur the Lieutenant's permis- 
sion," he exclaimed, ** I will explain, though 
I do not wish the fact to be generally known, 
that Monsieur Goubain is affiliated with the 
secret service and has given us much valuable 
information." 

“ Oh — oh I " gasped Bobby, while all the 
other Americans in the room uttered sup- 
pressed exclamations. 

His object in speaking so freely was not 
only to show you the dangers that existed but 
to get you to keep your eyes open." The man 
smiled. In one case, at least, he evidently 
succeeded." 

** You have no evidence against Monsieur 
Hamlin ? " continued the lieutenant, address- 
ing Bobby. 

No, Monsieur the Lieutenant," responded 
Peur Jamais. 

** That will do. You may sit down. Mon- 
sieur Gilbert," 


Don Hale 


298 

When the former college student rose to his 
feet he showed none of the perturbation which 
had affected Bobby. 

Monsieur Gilbert/^ began the lieutenant, 
** it will be necessary for you to explain your 
entire connection with this affair, which, as 
our report indicates, began long before you 
came to France and joined the Lafayette Es- 
cadrille.” 

Yes, Monsieur the Lieutenant,'^ returned 
Gilbert. In an easy, conversational tone he 
began ; ‘‘ Before hostilities broke out in 1914 
my father and Jason Hamlin's were firm 
friends, as well as business partners. Mrs. 
Hamlin was born in Germany, and her hus- 
band himself had distant relatives living 
there. The war had not continued very long 
before disputes began to arise between my 
father and his partner on account of the 
latter's ardent championship of the cause of 
Germany." Gilbert glanced in the direction 
of Jason Hamlin. ** His son, too, was equally 
disposed to favor that country. And as our 
fathers had heated arguments so did we. 
Both of us, I may say, were at work for the 
firm. Finally the differences became so acute 


With the Flying Squadron 299 

that after a particularly violent altercation, 
Mr. Hamlin, Senior, announced his intention 
of withdrawing from the firm, which he 
shortly did. His son, too, went with him ; 
and, from the closest of friends, we became so 
estranged as to be considered enemies.’’ 

** After the entrance of America into the 
war did the Hamlins still remain pro-Ger- 
man ? ” queried the officer. 

Victor Gilbert smiled. 

** I have never had any conversation with 
the Mr. Hamlin, Senior, since that time,” he 
replied, ** and I do not know what his opin- 
ions are. Frankly, I must say that in regard 
to the son it seemed incomprehensible to me 
that one with such strong German proclivities 
could so change his opinions as to come over 
here and fight for the Allied cause.” 

** May I speak ? ” interjected Hamlin, some- 
what heatedly. 

** Your turn will come in a few minutes, 
Monsieur,” said the presiding officer. Con- 
tin uez, Monsieur Gilbert.” 

** I was astounded when Hamlin came to 
the aviation school. And, judging from many 
things he had said, I feared that perhaps he 


300 


Don Hale 


might actually be a spy. And in some of our 
altercations — altercations that interested Mon- 
sieur Dunlap — I intimated just as much.” 

‘‘You certainly did,” jeered Jason Hamlin, 
with an angry glare. “ And if you’d only 
had sense enough to ” 

“ Silence — silence I ” interrupted the lieu- 
tenant. 

“ Naturally, words may be said in the heat 
of anger which would not be uttered when 
cooler judgment prevails,” continued Victor, 
doggedly. “ Why, I ask, shouldn’t I have 
been suspicious? And when I remarked to 
Hamlin that ‘ other games are just as danger- 
ous ’ it was meant as a warning for him to go 
a bit slow.” 

“ Has your opinion been altered ? ” asked 
the lieutenant. 

Victor Gilbert nodded. 

“ Yes, Monsieur the Lieutenant,” he replied. 
“ And the reason is because of Hamlin’s very 
excellent record since he joined the squad- 
ron.” 

Jason Hamlin now had the opportunity to 
explain his side of the case. 

As he began speaking his manner was de- 


With the Flying Squadron 301 

cidedly different from that of the other two 
witnesses. He was clearly angry — aggressive, 
and his voice, raised high, rang through the 
room. 

“ I am very willing to admit that I was 
pro-German, as Monsieur Gilbert told you,^' 
he declared. But, as events change so can 
one^s opinions change with them. Before 
America became involved in hostilities I had a 
perfect right to favor Germany ; but to have 
done so afterward would have been disloyal — 
indeed a traitorous act. No one has the right 
to go against his own country. And when 1 
learned that Victor Gilbert had joined an 
aviation school in France I determined to 
show him, as well as any others who might 
have doubted my patriotism, that they were 
entirely mistaken. And as words without 
action count for little, I decided to follow his 
example and become an aviator.*^ 

At this point Jason Hamlin's stern expres- 
sion deepened. He clenched his fists ; and 
when he spoke again it was in even louder 
tones than before. 

My friend Monsieur Dunlap may think 
that he alone pierced the disguise of the peas- 


302 


Don Hale 


ant, but, if so, he is in error ; and, surmising 
that I might be under suspicion, I made it a 
point to cultivate the man's acquaintance. 
At last the feelings which injustice always 
arouse caused me to decide that it was time to 
make an end of the farce — hence my visit to 
the farmhouse. I boldly told the secret 
service man that I knew what was going on ; 
I said he could strip off his peasant's disguise 
and work to better advantage elsewhere. I 
declared that I was receiving a very poor re- 
ward for daily risking my life for the Allied 
cause. We had some words, which were 
brought to an end by the appearance of that 
secret service man sitting there." With a 
wave of his hand, Jason Hamlin continued : 
“ The rights of an individual are as sacred as 
the rights of the government." He drew 
himself erect. I ask — I demand to know if 
you have the slightest evidence against me? " 

His flashing eyes, the fearlessness of his 
manner, the righteous indignation expressed 
in his voice brought a strong and dramatic 
touch to the situation. 

Following his words there came a silence, 
curious and impressive. 


With the Flying Squadron 303 

Bobby Dunlap, fearing that in the judicial 
atmosphere this outburst might bring a stern 
rebuke, stared almost open-mouthed at the 
lieutenant. The latter, however, showing 
neither surprise nor displeasure, remarked, 
calmly : 

“ We have no evidence against you. Mon- 
sieur Hamlin. And I may say that reports 
received from our agents in America are 
thoroughly satisfactory. Kindly take your 
seat while we listen for a few moments to 
Monsieur Castel of the secret service.'’ 

Smilingly, the ex-peasant stood up. 

“ It won't take very much time," he an- 
nounced. " I am glad indeed that everything 
has terminated so satisfactorily for all con- 
cerned. This case, I may say, was all brought 
about by remarks being overheard. Some- 
times a whisper is enough to set the secret 
service in action. My confreres and I immedi- 
ately began an investigation, and all of you 
young Messieurs have been under surveillance 
for some time." 

''Oh — oh I Can you beat it!" muttered 
Peur Jamais. 

'' Messieurs Glenn and Dunlap's actions on 


304 Don Hale 

the occasion of their visit to the house were 
rather peculiar, especially that of this young 
Monsieur here.” He pointed to Bobby. ‘‘ It 
could be readily seen that his curiosity was 
not merely the expression of a youthful desire 
to see the house, and, when he, in the com- 
pany of Monsieur Hale, started ofif on their 
walk yesterday afternoon they were shadowed 
by my fellow detectives here. And their ac- 
tions, of course, were so suspicious — a fact 
which they themselves must admit — that 
there was nothing to do but place them under 
arrest. While Monsieur Boulanger came into 
the house to inform me that the boys were in 
the garden Monsieur Brion, who knew where 
they were concealed, kept track of their move- 
ments, and, at a signal which I gave by means 
of the lamp, he brought the matter to a cli- 
max. I believe there is nothing more for me 
to add.” 

Bobby Dunlap and Don Hale were now 
called upon for an explanation, which they 
gave to the entire satisfaction of those con- 
ducting the examination. 

At its conclusion the stern-faced lieutenant, 
with a suspicion of a smile, exclaimed : 


With the Flying Squadron 305 

** You have all been found not guilty, and, 
in accordance with that fact. Messieurs Gilbert 
and Hamlin, I sentence you to shake hands 
and forget whatever diflferences may have ex- 
isted between you. Human nature is fallible, 
and, had the case been reversed, you. Mon- 
sieur Hamlin, would have acted in a precisely 
similar manner to that of Monsieur Gilbert. 
Let me take this occasion to thank and com- 
pliment you [for the noble work which you 
have been doing in the cause of humanity 
and justice.^' 

The two young aviators nodded, in recogni- 
tion, and each, in turn, thanked the lieutenant. 

Then, without a remaining trace of animos- 
ity, they clasped each other’s hands. 

And in this happy fashion ended the case 
of Hamlin and the peasant, which was a nine- 
days’ wonder in the escadrille. 

But, though it was ended, the conversation 
about it by no means came to such an abrupt 
termination. The principals came in for 
many bantering remarks, and had to stand 
a great deal of good-natured chaffing. Of 
course Bobby Dunlap was the principal vic- 
tim. 


3o6 


Don Hale 


‘‘ I say, Peur Jamais,’' laughed George, ** can 
you now almost hear the commander saying 
* My brave and loyal friends, in the name of 
my countrymen, I thank you ’ ? ” 

Joke if you like,” grinned Bobby, good- 
naturedly. Anyway, I made a few truthful 
predictions.” 

‘^How?” 

“ I said it wasn’t going to be a laughing 
matter to some one.” 

” Correct, old chap.” 

** And, after all, it certainly did mean an 
astonishing sequel.” 

And so speaking, Bobby chuckled mirth- 
fully. 

Several weeks later, in the spacious grounds 
of a ch&,teau occupied by the military authori- 
ties, a lively and spectacular scene was being 
enacted. Soldiers were drawn up in a hollow 
square. And there, where danger did not 
exist, could be seen all the pomp and pag- 
eantry of warfare, so lacking in the actual 
operations. The warm, clear sunshine shone on 
generals’ uniforms, on military motor-cars and 
on high-spirited horses, champing at their bits. 


With the Flying Squadron 307 

And besides the military there were present 
a few men in civilian dress, the most promi- 
nent among them being an extremely ponder- 
ous man with a most beaming face whom 
all the former students at the Ecole Militaire 
de Beaumont recognized as old Pere Goubain, 
the proprietor of the Caf6 Rochambeau. 

What was the occasion of all this festivity ? 

It was because a number of airmen, Red 
Cross ambulance drivers and soldiers had so 
distinguished themselves as to earn the grati- 
tude of the French Republic that they were to 
be awarded the Croix de Guerre and other 
decorations. 

Among those who were recipients of the 
War Cross were Don Hale and T. Singleton 
Albert. It was Don Hale’s feat in saving the 
Caudron photographic machine and his sub- 
sequent destruction of the observation balloon 
which had brought him the coveted honor. 

And after a general had pinned the Croix 
de Guerre to his breast and the proceedings 
were over the first to shake his hand was old 
Pere Goubain. 

“ Ah I La France can never lose with such 
young men as you enlisted in her cause,” he 


3o 8 Don Hale 

exclaimed. “ And now, mon ami, what are 
your plans ? 

‘‘ I hope to be transferred to the American 
air service as soon as possible,^^ returned the 
smiling Don Hale. 

I knew that would be the answer,” cried 
old Pere Goubain. ‘‘ And I am very certain 
that Monsieur Don Hale with the Yanks will 
be as successful as he was with the Lafayette 
Squadron, and make a name for himself that 
will carry beyond the seas.” 


The Stories in this Series are : 

DON HALE IN THE WAR ZONE 

DON HALE OVER THERE 

DON HALE WITH THE FLYING SQUADRON 

DON HALE WITH THE YANKS (in press) 










